… Do they wobble to and fro? Can you tie them in a knot? Can you tie them in a bow?
If you are still reading this, then you truly understand these words. Let me start off with the most important thing: THANK YOU, amazing breasts, for feeding two humans for a grand total of 912 days (at least). THANK YOU for being able to pump milk in boring brown rooms, in nondescript hallways, under “hooter hiders”, in the car, and in any other random place I happened to be able to locate. THANK YOU for those pre-mom days (and nursing days) when you voluptuously fit into bras & shirts and gave me cleavage that could be compared to gorgeous mountains and valleys. You truly have my utmost respect.
But here you are now… exhausted. Often, I lovingly refer to you as my old ladies. The way I see it, you want to be exactly who you are and to be left the flip alone. You don’t have time for other people’s criticisms (or even my own). You just want to be honored and respected for what you have contributed; and let me tell you ladies, I love you for that!
However, when I am not giving you reverence or living in the land of logic, I judge you. I look down at you (waaay down) and call you weird-looking. I’ve described you as appearing to look a little sad. I feel as though a tragic magic trick has taken place and replaced my glorious rolling hills with craters.
What I also didn’t realize before I started kickin’ butt with regular exercise was that those craters would sink down even lower. I am in the best shape of my life, but ladies, to put it lightly, you have absolutely no pep.
This dichotomy of feelings is like riding a roller coaster (but a kid roller coaster because you know, the hills are pretty small). When I am riding down, I often find myself looking in the mirror trying to understand where all the filling went. But, as I climb back up, I am in awe of my amazing, healthy, and strong body that fed and grew humans. FED AND GREW HUMANS! I always make my way back to the beginning of the ride, which leads me to saying THANK YOU, ladies, for being truly awesome. I honor you for your years of service. I will let you live out your final years in comfortable bras, or on our wild days, free to hang out in all your glory.
Years ago, when going bra-less was a new thing, “they” came up with a way to decide if you should or shouldn’t go bra-less…if you could hold a pencil in place under your boobs, you should be wearing a bra. I looked at my chest, and knew the only way I could hold a pencil in place was if there was tape involved!!! I’ve learned over the years to just be thankful that whatever I have is still there and cancer free. Great write, I look forward to your next one. And thank you for those little humans!
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