Angelism: “Gravity is a real thing. Invest in a good bra!”
Boobs rock and I appreciate a nice rack just as much as the boys. I am a straight woman who won’t look away at the flashing going on at Mardi Gras. Every boob is different and all worth checking out. I was fortunate to be blessed with a nice set thanks to my genetics. I swore to never take my boobs for granted as one grandma is a breast cancer survivor. I appreciate mine for their soft, cute, and curvaceous appearance. In my eyes boobs are sexy; I don’t view them as a food source as I lack that maternal instinct. I have always been PRO REAL BOOBS and ANTI FAKE MELONS, but as I get older I am beginning to think that a fresh rack may be exactly what I need later in life.
In my teenage years I liked my boobs but I did not think much about them. I thought they were cute and was glad to have them. Boys were definitely interested which was funny to me. In my early 20s I fell in love with them because I learned their special power. Show a guy a boob or display your nice rack in a flattering top with a great bra and you will get all the free drinks you want. It was easy to look sexy since I have cleavage to show off. Always having fun and shaking my god given boobalicious gift, I never realized that my boobs would actually have a life span. I just ran around happy they were there. They looked fantastic and I assumed they always would. I remember hearing my Mom complain about saggy boobs but I figured I didn’t want kids so that was not going to happen to me. WRONG!!!
Right around 28, I noticed a slight droop of my mountain peaks. Not much to worry about at the time but my nipples were no longer the perky Hershey Kisses they once were. Instead of staring straight into the eyes of the people in front of me, they began to stare slightly downward and to the side. Although I noticed this minimal change it didn’t bother me. All that mattered was I looked good without a bra on. Then at 30, I gained and lost twenty pounds after knee surgeries and – OUCH! My boobs took on new form. Don’t get me wrong, they still looked good but they no longer looked fan-fucking-tastic like they used to. Now traveling down the hill of my 30th decade, I was faced with three mammograms. It turns out breasts can be flattened into a pancake and it does hurt to squeeze your boobs flat! It was at this point, in the boob torture chamber, that I realized my boobs might be on borrowed time.
You never know when your boobs will stop being those beautiful perky mountains they once were. You never know how they will look once you gain and lose weight. You never know in what directions your nipples will go once gravity and age kick in. You never know if they are here to stay or if you will lose them to breast cancer. You never know what they will end up like after childbirth and breast-feeding. I’m here to tell you younger girls that the loss of your breasts’ greatness will happen. Love your boobs when they are young because someday you will need to lift your boobs up to put your belt on. As for all the middle-aged and older women who are sad that the boobs they once knew are there no longer, I feel your pain. Just adjusting to this new phase of the late 30’s has thrown me for a bit of a loop. I am embracing it but I do miss the buoyancy I once had.
Every set of breasts are different. You may have pink or brown nipples and they might be uneven. You may have raisin, Hershey Kiss, pepperoni, or hamburger patty sized nipples. Your actual boobs may be flat, ginormous, or some really perfect C or D cup. You may have a hair or two sprouting out, tan lines, or perfectly smooth beautiful mountains that even you love to fondle. No matter what size, color, or shape, be grateful for them. Appreciate and admire them as a piece of your beauty. Boobs are awesome and I pray often, that regardless of what they end up looking like, that they stay healthy. I know now if I wake up at 60 and one boob is hanging off the side of the bed and almost touching the floor that some plastic surgery is not such a bad idea.