Having Double D’s has ups and downs. Literally. Growing up, it was a badge of honor to have big boobs. Friends, family and random women would say, “girl you are so blessed to have big boobs.” Often times, I would smile, say thank you with clinched teeth. But the truth was, damn these bubbles are heavy.
It took a while to realize that I was often described as the girl with the big boobs. I’ve been told that’s when people know exactly who I am. I learned early in my life, my Double D’s were popular. What I didn’t know is the excitement would never die down. They were so popular, the rest of me faded to the background.
Young boys and men joked about them and would say “Damn I’d get lost in them things,” “Girl, what you gone do with all that,” “Can I touch,” “Check the rack.” I even started joking about them. Whenever I spill food on my tops, I’d say, somebody has to feed the twins.
To this day, men have conversations with them.
A gay friend once told me that he had never been so captivated with boobs until mine. What’s hilarious, is when men are clearly intimidated by them. I wasted a lot of time easing the tension.
In an attempt to hide them, I wore big tops. In the meantime, I created another problem. The rest of my body became mysterious. I remember shopping with a good friend and trying on clothes. We met by the mirrors outside the fitting room to advise on our outfits. On one occasion, my friend asked that I tuck in my shirt. My friend’s mouth dropped. She said holy shit, you have a shape. She only saw me wear big tops at this point. So I stopped once I realized people perceived me bigger than I really was at the time.
Over time, I considered a reduction but fear the knife and pain. I once vomited all over the waiting area in the hospital from a little cut in my foot. After consultation with my doctor, she convinced me that I can shrink, shape and lift them If I diet and exercise. So I did. By golly, my boobs shrunk around the bra band. For years, my size fluctuated as I gained and loss weight. The cup size barely budged. I’ve ranged from a 36DD- 42F. At times, I was satisfied with merely ridding myself of the side boobs.
I have to admit, I used them to my advantage. I used my boobs as a flirting tool to get what I want. When I needed to get help quick, it was a last resort. I know shame on me for starting a pity party about Double D’s then share a lame excuse for getting my way. We’ve all done it in many ways.
The next time you envy DD+ women, here are few sentiments from my treasure chest of my boob chronicles:
- Back aches
- Pretty, lots of colors but super expensive bras
- Cheap, black, white, beige colors and boring bras
- Shoulder bruises
- Bridesmaid dress nightmares
- Not all Double D’s are matchy (hence fraternal twins)
Now that I’m in the 50 plus club, the party has ended. It’s all about holding on to as much lift as possible while avoiding the infamous torpedo look. I’m proud to say I survived, gained confidence early enough to walk with confidence and maintain a free spirit. I’ve let them be and glow in grace.
My Double D’s have fallen and aged gracefully. What’s heartwarming is my big boobs play fair when I release them at the end of the day. It makes me smile reminiscing about the good and bad of my Double D fraternal twins. The twins hung in there for the long haul. Ha!