Monday, 27 July 2009
You would think I was the offspring of Pamela Anderson and Hugh Heffner. I was fascinated by boobs. I was not attracted to them but I wanted to have them. Here is a story about my journey of developing!
I. Be Careful What You Wish For
This is one lesson I learned the hard way. My parents always told me to never make selfish wishes and to always chose wisely because sometimes when you get what you thought you wanted; it is not actually as great as you thought it would be. Every little kid has their own wishes and desires and at a young age when most children pray, they have their own interests at heart as they pray for a pony, a Barbie or a pool. I, like every other kid was no exception to this. But unlike most children, I did not pray for the usual items at night, No, what I wished for was certainly more mature than most.
As a five year old little girl, I prayed at night for boobs. I prayed, wished on shooting stars and every time it was 11:11, I made a wish. And thankfully, God did not answer that little five year old girl’s prayers because I would have looked foolish running around at about three feet tall with the chest of a Hooter’s girl.
II. Eat Your Veggies If You Want to Grow Big and Strong
In my quest for a chest, I ate my veggies but there was one thing my mother said that I valued as way more important to my growth. Whenever I would fight with my parents about taking a shower because at five, “dirty was the new clean,” my mom would tell me that I needed to shower if I wanted to grow taller and my mother compared myself to a plant. She said you have to feed and water a plant in order for it to grow. So I figured in terms of humans the “food” would be soap, Caress Soap because that’s what my mother had always used and then I would need to water my chest. So I developed a nightly ritual of taking a bath so that I could have plenty of time and lots of water to go towards developing.
Picture this: a scrawny five-year old girl in the bathtub, with her wet scraggly brown hair sitting in a tub of bubbles. After talking to my parents in my high-pitched, alien like voice I pick up a bar of Caress soap. I begin to rub the soap on my chest for like 10 minutes, repeating, “Grow, grow, please grow!” What my parents did not know was that this foolish soap rubbing antic became something I did every time I took a bath.
I went through a bar of soap a week and my mom was curious as to why. So one week my mom went grocery shopping and came home with a bulk pack of Zest soap because it was on sale and we went through soap pretty quickly those days. This was not the soap I was familiar with and I did not want to mix the soaps and have some sort of reverse reaction. So I realized that I needed to take matters into my own hands because no one understood what it was like. If I wanted my special soap I was going to have to buy it myself.
III. Money Doesn’t Grow on Trees
I asked my parents for money but did not tell them why because they would not understand. Like most five year olds I did not have more than a few quarters in my piggy bank, because I usually dug into it to buy gumballs and sweets from candy machines. After checking under all of the couch cushions and cleaning my room I only had 57 cents and that would not even buy me one bar. Since I was constantly told that money did not grow on trees and that my parents were not made of money, I tried a different approach.
I started stealing money from my nine year old sister. I was constantly sneaking into her bedroom and taking her allowance money. After a couple of week’s worth of stealing the ones she hid in her sock drawer, I ended up with $14.57. Proud of my accomplishments, the next thing I needed to do was come up with a way to get up to the store. I could not ask my parents to take me because then they would ask where I got the money.
IV. Don’t Cross the Road Without an Adult
My parents went out to lunch one Saturday afternoon and had my neighbor Suzanne come over to babysit me and my sisters. As she was on the phone with her boyfriend, I tugged on her shorts and annoyed her until she told me to go ride my bike. And so I did, I got on my pink Huffy bike with the little white basket, purple horn and pink, white, and purple tassels and put the money I had collected into my fanny pack.
After securing my helmet I started riding my bike up Orion Path. I rode past my parents' “cut-off” point because I was on a mission. At the end of my incredibly long street there was Route 57, and at the time this was one of the busiest roads in our town. Cars were whizzing by and there was never a break in traffic but I needed to get across the street. At first I was going to ride my bike across but that seemed too difficult and I was afraid. I saw a man outside watering the garden in front of his house, the big white one on the corner. Hearing my parent’s voices in my head telling me to, “Never cross 57 without an adult” I decided I should play it safe.
V. Don’t Talk to Strangers
As I biked over to the man watering his garden, I ignored the “Never talk to strangers” advice because I was so determined. I walked over to this man and told him I needed to get to the store and that it was super important but that I was not allowed to cross the street by myself. Coined by several as a snotty brat, I told him if he would not help me, I would just try to go across on my own but that if I got hurt it was his fault. So the man put down his hose and helped me cross the street and told me that when I was on my way back to wait and get his attention so he would help me cross the street again. Apparently when I was gone, he took it upon himself to call everyone in the neighborhood to track down who I belonged to.
I walked into Price Chopper, picking up a red basket to collect my soap in. I filled this basket, until it was overflowing and I was barely strong enough to hold the basket, and then proceeded to the checkout. I dumped the contents of Caress soap onto the conveyor belt and told the cashier that I had $14.57 and to charge me what I could afford. It took three plastic bags to pack up the soap and then I put soap into my white bike basket and began my trek to the busy street.When I got to the corner and was ready to cross I flagged down the man in the white house on the corner, he came and helped me cross the street and as we arrived at the end of the driveway my parents walked out of his garage with angry looks on their faces. I got grounded, had to return the soap and use average Zest soap. I was forced to apologize to my sister for stealing her money and had to do chores to earn money to pay her back for stealing. Suzanne was fired from being our babysitter too. That day was a big mess.
VI. There Are Consequences For Your Actions
Since my hard-earned Caress soap was gone, I had to solely rely on the power of prayer to get what I wanted. So every night and morning I said my prayers, kneeling by my bedside and it went something like this, “Dear God, please pray for my parents and sisters and everyone in the world who is sick or poor. Pray for my dog Molly. And please give me boobs. They are very important.” This fascination with developing did not end and as time went on I said the same prayer every night. My older sisters Sara and Rachel both developed large chests and I cried many times because life was unfair. I wanted them so why did I not get them? Before entering freshmen year of high school, I STILL said that prayer but was not having any success.
VII. Patience is a Virtue and All Good Things Come in Time
As I cried to my mother on a daily basis about how unfair life was because I did not have that large chest like my sisters had, she would constantly tell me to be patient. She always mumbled something about how, “A watched pot never boils.” So she told me to focus my energy and wishes on more important things. Then she told me all good things come in time, insinuating that one day I would just blossom.
VIII. Mother Knows Best
I was always told that my mother knew best and I even followed her “patience is a virtue” advice and did not focus as much on my chest. And like she said, in time I did develop just like I wanted and she was certainly right in saying that one day I would just blossom.
Sophomore year began, and I was again the smallest girl in my class. I was short and flatter than a piece of paper. I was incredibly upset and was jealous of everyone who had developed more than me. I had prayed, used Caress soap and took all sorts of extremes but yet I was being punished and ended up having to wear a training bra in high school.
It was a Friday, December 14 when I woke up one morning got out of bed and screamed. “MOM, HELP I CANNOT SEE MY FEET!” As my mom came rushing upstairs, I realized that overnight I had developed a HUGE chest. I had developed a larger chest than my much older and incredibly busty sisters. That day my mom had to call into work and I had to skip school because my training bra would not fit and I could not go to school without a bra. I was a full C almost D and somehow this happened overnight. I was thrilled and overjoyed and thanked God hourly for this incredible gift he gave me.
When I went back to school on Monday, I walked around the halls with my chest out and chin up, so everyone could notice how fabulous I had become. But I got a lot of strange looks and heard people whispering all day. It was fourth period and I was about to go home as my best friend Leslie came over and pulled me aside. She told me everyone at school was talking and saying that I missed school because I must have gotten breast implants.
To top it all off, I had been dancing since I was three years old but I was the only girl in my dance class with a chest and it made jumping and leaping ungraceful so eventually I quit dance. After that I gained some weight and from there my chest just kept getting bigger.
IX. Keep Your Chin Up
The perks of having a big chest faded quickly. My confidence began to shrivel as everywhere I went I got comments on my chest. Boys would assume I was “easy” or “slutty” and this was just the start of it. High school became unbearable, I even had to make my own prom dress because I was so out of proportion that nothing would fit me the way it should. I would often whine to my parents and they told me to keep my head up and that things would get better. They did not though.
I went on a trip to Oneonta with my best friend Stacy and her three older brothers. One night we were walking around the campus just talking and having a good time. Then I hear someone yell, “Nice Melons” out the window. I could not go anywhere without getting attention for my chest, but not good attention. This was negative attention. I am pretty sure everyone I met from sophomore year of high school until sophomore year of college could tell you how large my chest was but would have no idea what color eyes I had. It got incredibly frustrating.
So I began to hide under a newly developed tomboy exterior and began to wear oversized sweatshirts. It was awkward and embarrassing and this once amazing gift was more of a curse. I wore three bras and a bathing suit on a daily basis to strap them down. Finally it got out of control; I was just barely 5 foot tall but was wearing bigger than a DD bra.
The only time I could really keep my chin up was when I was working at Price Chopper because I could hide behind the completely unflattering blue polo. Towards the end of my shift one Friday, a man wearing a Hooter’s shirt and nametag came through my line. We had a casual conversation as I do with most customers and as he was leaving he said, “Hey, I have a question for you but since you are working and the question is not totally appropriate it would probably be considered sexual harassment so if you want to know the question. I am the manager at the Hooter’s just across the parking lot so you should come in and ask for me sometime,” as he handed me his card.
Well, curiosity got the best of me and so I called a bunch of my guy friends and asked them to meet me at Hooter’s for dinner. The manager immediately saw me come in and came over and handed me a job application and asked me if I was interested in taking on a second job.
At this point I was done. It had gone too far, I could not even work without my chest getting checked out and receiving that negative attention.
X. Take Matters Into Your Own Hands
Both of my parent’s always told me that I was the master of my own domain and that if I did not like something, I needed to take matters into my own hands. So over Christmas break during my sophomore year of college, I had my first consultation appointment with my plastic surgeon, Dr. Hixon. The first appointment was incredibly awkward as we talked sizes and then we had to take pictures to send out to the insurance company for approval.
When the insurance finally approved the surgery we set a date of May 25. So just a week after I came home for the summer I would be going for this surgery so that I would have the summer to make a full recovery. The day before my surgery I went to see Dr. Hixon and as he took a Sharpie marker and drew on chest, neck and underarms for what he was going to follow the next day I began to get nervous.
Now matters were out of my hands and completely in Dr. Hixon’s hands.
XI. Payback’s a Bitch
The day I came home from the hospital I was in excruciating pain and was miserable but as I walk into the living room the home video of my rubbing soap on my chest, telling it to grow was playing on the television. My mom laughed about the irony in everything. Recovery was horrible and painful but I was reminded on a daily basis that I got what I had wished for. The surgery helped, I still had a large chest but was in proportion. And for the first time in years, I could see my feet!
XII. Be Careful What You Wish For
As I was lying on the coach in pain I thought about the great lengths, prayer and tear shed over being flat chested but ironically, when I get what I wanted I went through great lengths to get rid of it. And so I learned a valuable lesson, be careful what you wish for because it may not actually be what you wanted, or way more than what you wanted.