Today's post comes to you from our pal Dani at Martinis and Minivans. It's certainly a topic I can relate to. Although our dearly departed Kate put it best when she said: "My boobs used to be SHOCK AND AWE! Now they're like shock! And awwww....."
I was recently trying on the ever-popular Maxi dress at a department store last week. While in the dressing room, I realized that the same problem kept occurring with each dress I put on. My breasts popped out of them.
I realize that there are women that might be looking for that type of dress and embrace the size C/D cups I have been given in life, but I am not one of them. Too many conversations with men not looking into my eyes have made me long for constant cover-ups. However, I don’t want to have to wear a cami with every dress I purchase. With that in mind, I have written a request letter to my breasts.
I know that you are probably feeling a bit depressed these days. We have been together for decades and early on, you felt happy and perky every day. You would stay upright when gravity was pushing you down. And you would easily let me wear spaghetti straps without them digging into my shoulders.
However, I feel as if I betrayed you when my children were born. I asked you to fill with milk and then to harden and that must have made you sad because you started to droop and hang down lower each day.
Now, you seem to be in the anger stage in our relationship. You won’t let me wear button down shirts now because there is too much of a gap between buttons. And those spaghetti straps that I used to love now cause horrible indentations in my skin that actually give me shoulder fat marks.
But it isn’t all bad. You do provide am ample shelf for me to put my drink on while sitting on the couch, and my children seem to enjoy the two built in pillows available to them at any moment, though my daughter did recently question why they fall to the side when I lie down. Oh, how I wonder that same thing…
However, I am begging you – please cheer up. Think about our good old days together and how happy you were to fit into a bra without grandma-wide straps. I know you can be those breasts again. I believe in you.
Your hopeful body
Danielle Herzog is a native New Yorker who is now living the Midwest life as a somewhat sarcastic woman on the never-ending quest to be hip. She’s a writer, mother, wife, and a member of one ridiculously large Italian family, the kind where cousins are named after Godfather characters. She’s the blogger behind Martinis and Minivans, a blog for anyone who has ever needed a martini after driving a minivan around all day. Or for anyone who has just ever needed a martini. Danielle has been freelance writing for over seven years and written everything from personal stories to restaurant reviews, and now writes mostly about parenting. She’s a blogger for The Huffington Post and Omaha World Herald’s parenting site, Momaha. Her blogs have been featured on What to Expect.com and recently on the front page of AOL.com. In her free time she likes to…well…when she gets some free time, she’ll get back to you on that one.
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