I bought my first push-up bra in 10th grade at a Victoria’s Secret clearance sale. It was a gargantuan padded beast. I coveted this bra and wore it exclusively, carefully laundering by hand so it would last longer. I loved my fake boobs and wore them with pride, patiently waiting for the boob fairy to visit and bring me my very own set.
The damn fairy never came. The period fairy came (a few times), the zit fairy came, the armpit hair fairy came, but never the boob fairy. By my freshman year in college I had surrendered myself to the “boobs included” bra and accepted that this would be the only way I’d ever look “hot” in tops. I wore these huge padded beasts until I got pregnant. I wore them in the blazing heat of Alabama summers. I wore them in the pouring rain when walking to work. I would wake up in the morning and immediately strap one on before venturing out to greet my roommates. My fake boobies and I were one.
Then I had a baby and started nursing. Boobs included bras were both uncomfortable and impractical so I set them aside until we either weaned or the beautiful nursing boobs dwindled away enough that I needed to call in some backup support.
Yesterday was laundry day and all three of my nursing bras needed washed. Normally I would just go braless but I had to meet a perspective photography client while the loads were washing so I pulled out one of my old push-up bras, strapped it on and headed out without a second glance. We had our meeting, Sabine played on the playground a bit and then I went back to the apartment to collect my laundry. The afternoon progressed as normal until the Professor came home.
“Wow, you wearing a new bra?”
“Mmm, yeah, had to pull out one of my old boobs included bras because it was laundry day. Why?”
“It kinda looks like you are stuffing.”
I went to the bathroom to inspect my self for the first time that day and holy crap it looked ridiculous with these overly perky fake mounds perched upon my chest. What the hell had I been thinking?
I went back out and we had a good laugh about it and agreed, the boobs included looked pretty ridiculous after 15 months of au-natural.
“You know you are beautiful just the way you are. You really don’t need those.” the professor said. (Points to him for saying this without any prompting.)
I thought about this for a while. I felt so uncomfortable in the fake boobs and once he pointed out how silly they looked I felt even more awkward. Why do this to myself? Seriously. I don’t wear suits and such anymore (I used to wear the padded bras so I would not have to have my suits and button-ups altered) and once I find work I’ll purchase clothing that either fits as-is or I will spend the money to have them tailored. I’m no longer trying to pick up men (not that my fake boobies helped that quest much!) nor do I give two poops what other women think of my body. There is absolutely no reason to wear these ridiculous bras anymore.
So I threw them away. All of them. Into the trash they went and now my bra drawer is nice and empty with just three nursing bras in it. Once I am done nursing I’ll buy normal, regular bras and embrace the body that I have, not the body that Victoria Secret gives me. It feels really good to do this. It also feels really good to know I’ll not go through another 100 degree day with a huge padded bra strapped to my chest!