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Coming To Terms
Physical education. Also known to its victims as high school gym class... Growing up I had always been more developed in the chest area than most of my other girl friends. They would always say "oh! you are so lucky to have big boobs" or "did you see Jimmy starting at you while you were running those laps around the track?". I never really understood why anybody would tell someone that they had large breasts, let alone tell them how lucky they were to have them. The thought totally seemed alien to me.
So as the years through high school passed on by, I was always somewhat self conscious about my chest. I would try and hide it with my books, and walk slowly up and down stairs to try and tame that whole "bouncing" effect. My family weren't helping the situation too much either - somehow my mom always seemed to drop off my laundry (bras included) into my room while I had friends over. Dad didn't accept the fact that his first daughter's breasts were getting in the way of her guitar playing performances. And never once did my little sister miss the opportunity to use my bras as helmets and sling shots when she was going through that whole 'superhero' stage. So when times were tough, I just closed my eyes, counted to ten and wished I was the most flat-chested girl in the entire world. Unfortunately, as you may have guessed, that's not what happened.
These days, while in my senior year of high school I can honestly say that I'm feeling better about my breasts and their size. I wear the kinds of shirts that I want, and I don't even have to use my English book as a shield anymore (besides, it always seemed as if the darn book was shrinking). So with guitar in hand, I am in the process of getting my old band back together... Watch out world, 'cause this girl is ready to bust out all over, and she's got the proud breasts to prove it.
By ambur