If you asked my mom what I stressed about the most in middle school, she wouldn’t say my grades or crushes or friend drama—though, trust me. I stressed plenty about those things, too—she would probably say that I was always stressing about how insecure I was about my flat chest and small boobs.
Here is the story
I was a *super* late bloomer. Like first-period-at-age-16 kind of late bloomer (late-blooming ladies, I see you) and I had a totally flat chest—I still do!—and I hated it.
I know I’m not alone in this. Maybe you don’t like how small your boobs are (or how big!). Maybe you wonder when they are finally going to start growing, or how to make them bigger. Trust me, I felt just like that, too.
I used to measure my chest every Sunday night (and that’s on being a hyper-scheduled Virgo) to see if I’d made any “progress”. I didn’t even need a real bra until the seventh grade, and even then, I was a solid AA cup for the rest of middle school.
Here’s why I’m telling you all of this. Because now, as an almost-22-year-old, I’ve realized I haven’t even really thought about my boob size at all—unless you count bra shopping—which is wild if you consider the fact that I used to schedule a certain time every week *specifically* to think about my little ladies.
Which made me wonder, how did I end up getting over it?
This sounds like a kind of lame answer, but the truth is, I just sort of accepted it. My bra size did grow as I got older—almost everyone’s does—but not by much.
Here’s the thing:
This is going to be my body till the day I die. I’m stuck with it. What good does hating a part of myself do?
Eventually, I realized I couldn’t change my girls. I realized I was still doing awesome things and living a life I was proud of and I realized that so many other things mattered so much more to me than whether or not I could fit into a C-cup. So why not just do something totally *radical* and start loving my boobs for what they were?
Was it *really* that easy? Answer: Actually, yeah. Kinda.
I mean, it took a while, sure, but my boobs stayed small and I decided to tell myself that they were beautiful. And actually—plot twist—I started really liking them. I could run without any problems and I could sleep on my belly. And I *love* sleeping on my belly.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I am not here at all to say that having a small chest is somehow *better* than any other sort of chest, because it’s not. What I’m trying to say is that owning boobs—of WHATEVER size—is awesome. This is a friendly reminder that yours count in that statement.
I remember feeling somehow that I was “behind” the rest of the girls in my class, or that I wasn’t “becoming a woman” fast enough, whatever that means.
The truth, ladies, is the moment you learn that “becoming a woman” means so much more than what your body looks like…is the moment you start becoming a woman.
And if you’re worried the person you like won’t like you back because of the size of your boobs, I can *promise* that you don’t want to be with someone like that anyway. Babe, you’ll be so much better off without people who make you feel bad about your body.
Looking back on it now, as a college student, mostly I just feel sad that I spent so much time back then feeling so insecure about something I couldn’t change. It’s so frustrating that we as girls learn so early on to hate parts of ourselves that we can’t, and shouldn’t feel like we need to, change.
I’m sorry if you feel that way now. I can’t pretend it didn’t suck for me, and I’m sure you probably feel the same. And there is nothing wrong with feeling that way, either. It’s normal to feel uncomfy about parts of your body. Everyone does. The best thing you can do is remind yourself that you have so much to love about yourself.
Like the little mole on your back, or the way your dimples look when you smile or the new hidden talents you’re discovering every day. What I’m trying to say is that you are living the part of your life where you learn the most about who you are and who you want to be. It can be scary and difficult, but so exciting too.
Celebrate your victories and your talents, no matter how big or small. I promise that someday soon, they’ll add up and something like the size of your chest won’t even really matter to you that much anyway.