Weddings

This past weekend I traveled to VA to celebrate my good friend's marriage. She eloped exactly one year ago, but wanted to celebrate with their families for their anniversary. She had also announced to us via email a few weeks ago that they are expecting a baby in November.

Overall, it was a really fun weekend. I was a little anxious about how it would be since I knew I would be spending a lot of non stop time with some of my college friends and I wasn't sure how that would go. It was mostly not dramatic and very fun. 

This might be the first wedding I've been to since right before I moved out on my own. That wedding was super super painful. This wedding was significantly less upsetting but some jealousy did tug at me. I see the way the not-so-new couple look at each other and want that. I don't necessarily want a southern church wedding, but I do crave a devoted husband and baby daddy (same guy, not one of each). I have to have faith that it's all going to happen in due course, but for some reason I feel like I'm running out of time to find the one and get married in my 30s. Then I think "seriously, you're only 31." I'm hoping to get over this sense of urgency soon, but I always have felt that if you want something you should take actions to get it and I'm not taking any actions to find a partner. I think it would be better if I think of being single as getting really comfortable and settled into who I am and what makes me happy, so that I'm ready for a healthy relationship. (I feel like I've said that here before). I'll try to focus on that aspect of my relationship status, but my empty uterus will probably over power my subconscious (I hate that bitch). 

My Boobs

I guess I should start this at the beginning....

I used to be flat chested until I was 19. Not completely flat, "Barely B's", little sporty boobs, and I was ok with it. I would just be a butt girl. Then I went on the pill my Freshman year of college and grew C's. The most awkward part of this whole development (no pun intended) was that I went home for spring break, and came back a cup size larger. I cracked jokes about it with my friends (mostly male at the time) and said "People are going to think I got a boob job over break." I was content with my 34C's.  I was in total denial about how big they were. If someone told me I had "big boobs" I would rush into denial. Then randomly at 24, I seemed to outgrow my 34C's.  Unwilling to be professionally measured again, I just bumped myself up to a 34D. And it was what it was. D seems so large. I'm just a curvy girl, I'm not THAT girl with big boobs.  I would caveat any complaint I had about large boobs as "rich people problems". For example, I can't wear one of those super cute bandeau strapless bikini tops, or fit into certain shirts & dresses. Or I have to go up a size in a dress so I can get it over these babies. But, 34D.....meh, not that weird.


For the better part of the last year, I've started to suspect I had outgrown my bras. I had religiously been wearing a Victoria's Secret Angel bra that I knew ran on the large side. I would just buy new colors when they went on sale. One day late last fall, I had opened a new pink one that I had ordered for a great price but not really needed. It didn't fit. I had spillage everywhere. Armpit vagina, the whole thing. Bummed out, I held it up against the same bra that was a little older. It was visibly smaller....WTF VS.  After a running conversation with my (large breasted) sister regarding whether or not there was bra vanity sizing plaguing our society, I decided to go get professionally measured again. Tucking your boobs in all day is just not fun or cute.  I dragged her with me to Nordstrom where I had heard good things about their particular lingerie department. I'm not sure if going to get fit for a bra is more or less awkward with a friend/sister. The whole situation is pretty awkward, but if you're close enough to your chosen friend/sister, showing them your boobs is NBD. 

I was expecting her to say I was off by a cup size or a band size. But no, I'm a 34DDD. "Triple D?!" I said in disbelief. I didn't even know such a thing existed. I had a friend in college who told me she was a 30F, but her boobs were HUGE. The attendant and my sister tried to make me feel better about it not being a huge deal, but I'm still sort of upset about my own bra size.  I purchased a few bras that were either 32E's or 34DDD's. (E=DDD in Europe) Wearing my new bras, I noticed an amazing difference. This is way more comfortable and flattering.  Is this what women feel like when they finally switch to maternity jeans even though they just don't want to? (I'm not saying being pregnant and having large boobs are equivalent hardships) But, really? DDD?

This past weekend, I was visiting my BFF in DC and we were shopping, as we're prone to do. I commented that I was in dire need of a strapless, and I thought I should just go back to Nordstrom and ask for help since I have such special needs boobs.  She came with me into the dressing room, which was helpful. When you're buying something you don't really want, but need, it's hard to be non-biased. The attendant was really nice and patient. Ultimately, I left with a strapless bra, and two bras from the sale rack. One of those bras, was a 32G.......I almost didn't buy it because of the tag. I mean, G?!  With boobs like those I'd belong on Maury's special on "I'm addicted to plastic surgery" or "I refuse to get a breast reduction because my 82 year old husband loves me the way I am, even though I have health issues." Tell me you wouldn't watch that.

The worst part of this whole experience was, that we were almost late to the Pride Parade because I had to try on like 12 bras. So then I am apologizing to my BFF's wife for having special needs boobs that require extra help in a guerrilla fitting room environment. I can't even pick out my own bras! Gone are the days of just knowing how everything will fit. I texted my BFF on Monday to announce I was wearing my 32G and although it's comfortable (damn you, Nordstrom) I feel like everyone is staring at me knowing I'm wearing a circus bra. You know how you feel like people are judging you and your UTI when you buy Cranberry juice? It's like that.

It sounds like I have a mostly hate relationship with my boobs, but on the contrary, I do love them.  I want to have photos and potentially a plaster cast made so that when I'm done having babies, I can have them put back up. I get a lot of compliments on them and they are pretty perky, but seriously....DDD? 

Moral of the story: I have boob specific body dysmorphia (self diagnosed, without WebMD).   #RichPeopleProblems

Don't stand too close...

So in Game of Thrones, there is a character who is mostly a bad guy, but more importantly, he was scarred on his face as a child from fire. He probably wasn't going to be a good looking guy anyway, but it sort of makes him extra beastly. Even though this character is very brave and a good fighter, he gets crazy around fire. He abandons an important battle once they started setting everything aflame. At first it seems like an elephant being afraid of a mouse, but then you remember why he is so terrified and almost forgive him.

There were certain things that T would say to me that never sat well with me, but I didn't realize just how deeply he was cutting me until after I moved out. Several months ago a male friend was giving me unsolicited advice on working out and I just felt irrationally offended. I finally explained that I really didn't need help and I really didn't want to talk about it and why. I was hoping that it was just a raw wound, but today I found myself getting upset by a similar conversation again. I shouldn't be so offended, I'm the one that opened up the talk of wanting to be thinner. I don't like watching my calories or doing anything in particular. Eventually I just crack and it goes downhill. I much prefer to just try to be as active as possible and eat as healthy as possible. I managed to gracefully end the topic of conversation without an explanation. I'm really trying not to talk about T anymore. Crap....I hope the blog doesn't count.

Anyway, I really hope these old scars heal over to the point where I don't think about it anymore....time will tell.

Changes

I want to say that in general, I think the positive changes to my life far out weigh the bad.

I'm really starting to miss aspects of suburban housewife life. I miss having parking lots everywhere. I miss my amazing kitchen. I miss having a garbage disposal and a dishwasher. I miss my cleaning lady. I'm having serious manicure scruples. (Rich people problems).

I know I can get most of those suburban things back one day and enjoy the rest of my life a little more at the same time.

I feel like my relationships with those close to me are stronger than they were before. I'm not sure if its because they disapproved of T or if it was just because the real me was slightly stifled (still recovering her, by the way). My sister and her husband have become more of my friends lately than just my family. I truly appreciate it. It's like it was when we were younger an significantly more comfortable with each other. Maybe they feel the need to protect me/take care of me more, but it might also be because my schedule is more flexible and we can hang out more often. I feel like I'm closer with my friends again, which is great. One of my college friends said to her husband "I feel like we're getting our Meredith back."

I hope more positive changes evolve from this adjustment, we'll have to wait and see.