I know there are women who are jealous of my chest and openly wish they had my cleavage.  Men stare at it and other folks just wish I would cover up.  I have considered having a breast reduction for the better part of a decade.

The attention they get is not always faltering or welcome. Once a man who claimed he was a friend kissed the tops of my breasts and was actually amazed that I smacked him. After spending hours putting together a costume for a contest on  All Hallow’s eve I was mortified to receive the boobie prize. My breasts were all the judges noticed about the costume. I don’t bear the judges any ill will they couldn’t have known the effect of their decision would have on my self-esteem. A few years down the line, I worked at a ren faire, I actually had to stop people from just taking pictures of them. One man tried to take a picture a foot away from my chest. There was no way that my face was in that picture.

Finally after a great deal of reflection, I decided that I wasn’t ready to take that plunge.  I did take comfort in the fact that the loved ones I spoke with it about were hundred percent behind my decision either way. They just wanted me to be happy. Their support actually gave me the courage not go forward with a reduction.

Others have for many of the same reasons that I considered altering mine have gone under the knife. Their courage is astounding and inspiring. They went against the grain of a society that says bigger is better.  Society says a lot of harmful things about how women should look and what they should strive for.  Tuning out the negativity has helped me accept my bust and curves. It doesn’t always work, especially when the bombardment is so thoroughly invasive.

The more I think about my body image issues the more I realize that part of the problem has been my bras.  I don’t think that I have had a good fitting one in years.  Recently, I purchased new bras at Dillard’s thanks to their clearance sale and after reading Fullerfigurebust’s latest post I realize that not all of the new boulder holders actually fit correctly. It saddened me that even these new more comfortable ones still weren’t giving me the fit and support that I deserve.

Another blogger, BRAvolution, has called for standards to change when it comes to fitting bras.  She is right. Things need to change.  And it isn’t just for busty ladies like myself, but for more petite ladies as well.  They need better bras as well.  Why should any woman before force to pay good money for a product that isn’t designed to actually fit them? Especially, when society requires that we wear them to begin with.

It is hard to feel comfortable in your own skin when your undergarments are hurting you.  A friend in college introduced me to the concept of pretty undies, thank you Mandy, you were right, I do feel lovelier when they match. Unfortunately, a lot of the bras that fit me look like the ones my grandmother wore and don’t come with matching pretty panties.  Is it asking too much that my bras both fit and are pretty?

For years, I purchased my bras at Frederick’s of Hollywood after I was fitted by friend of a friend who worked there. They were pretty and were more comfortable than any bra I had in nearly a decade.  Stubbornly I have refused to be re-fitted for the last couple of years.  A foolish decision to be sure.  Then again the last fitting didn’t actually help, they told me I was a 40 F. Bras that fit in the dressing room stopped fitting in the real world. The newer bras in my arsenal all 38G’s or H’s.  The difference is amazing, and yet these bras still don’t fit the way they are supposed to, close, but still not there.

Another issue has been finding clothing that doesn’t over expose the girls when I work or play. At times, I do say the hell with it and just go for what is comfortable.  Two of my most comfy outfits display them to their fullness.  Something my parents, among others, have asked me not to do to. Someone I love more than life itself recently called them disguising. It wasn’t the first disparaging comment she has made about them or my weight. It hard to feel good about yourself when your nearest and dearest are disgusted by your body.

The clothes that look the best on me aren’t the tents they sell as plus sized clothes, but ones that fit and gently hug my curves.  Another article that I read recently called us to stop shopping at places that make us feel ashamed of our curvy beauty.  After years of trying to fit into clothes just not made for me or dealing with sales people that are rude, I am done.  I have borrowed my mother’s sewing machine and will be altering as well as sewing some new clothes.  When I do enter a store, I won’t be purchasing something just to make do or deal with rude or insulting clerks.  If you want my money then you are going to have to earn it.

Feeling better about my body and all it’s glorious curves is still a daily struggle.  Changing my diet recently has allowed my body to release some of the weight, but more than that I have been reforming my relationship with food.  Soda and me have finally begun to end our poisonous relationship.  I eat fresh foods for the most part and have been avoiding foods that contain large amounts of processed ingredients.  I am cooking on a daily basis once again, much to the delight of my neighbors who are the recipients of baked goods and nummy leftovers.

In one of my favorite movies, The Truth About Cats and Dogs, Uma Thurman’s character says that if you are what you eat then she is nothing because she eats nothing.  I have always thought about that scene when I reflect on the food I eat.  Do I really want to be fast food or a sugary drink with no nutritional value? Do I want to be nothing or someone of substance?  Do I want to be ruled by my cravings or make intelligent choices?

A couple of years ago, I discovered that my body has an adverse reaction to gluten. Since then I have worked to cut it out of my diet and life. Eating intelligently has meant a new way of life for me.  One where my food helps and doesn’t hurt me. I feel better than I did when I was skinny.

My busty curvy blues come and go…but I continue to grow stronger and more beautiful.