30 Days of Truth - Day 2 - What I love about myself

I know this is going to sound shallow and narcissistic – but I love my breasts. Of the bits of my body that I hate and wish were smaller and the other bits of my body that just annoy me and I wish would disappear (like the shelf on my butt) - but I have always loved my breasts. They are a UK size 34E – which is small around the waist (or small for me) but ample enough to brag about.

My dad's side of the family believe I inherited them from that side, but my mother doesn't have small breasts either – so I think like my big nose or my freckles its a combination of both sides that made me.

Like Rosie O'Donnell's character, Gina, says in Beautiful Girls :  "OK, look, girls with big tits have big asses, girls with little tits have little asses. That's the way it goes. God doesn't fuck around, he's a fair guy. He gave the fatties big, beautiful tits, and the skinnies little, tiny niddlers. If you don't like it, call him."

There are other things about myself that I love, like my winning personality or my ability to taste onion in ANYTHING – but none of them compare to how much my self identity seems to coincide to my breasts. On days where I look good and my breasts look perky I am perky and I feel great. On days where they are saggy or I am in a slob outfit – I feel like shit.

I think sometimes about breast cancer patients and what they must go through. I have nightmares about it, and wake up in a panic telling my husband that I can't loose my breasts. I honestly think I am not strong enough that if I had to loose a breast or both I would spiral down into a deep depression that not even my husband could bring me out of – so here is fingers crossed that doesn't happen.

Sometimes I wish it weren't true – that my identity is not connected to my breasts. Other times I think to hell with it – they look great so I should be happy. There are worse things to love about yourself (lets hope).  


p.s. I will not be posting a picture of them - ever!