I was just a little girl when I realised that I had been blessed…and cursed with big boobs. LOL, just kidding. I found that out at a normal, puberty-hitting age. Anyway, I’m not going to go on about boobs in the introduction, mostly because this entire list is about it. So, my fellow busty ladies, let us unite in our big-boobed awkwardness!
Most people stare at your boobs not because they’re perverts but because they’re secretly wondering if they’re real.
They’re real, guys, they’re real.
Food sometimes gets lost there and you’re not sure if you should rescue it and play Dora The Explorer or just let it rest in its new home.
Also, you may or may not feel bad about all the people going hungry while food gets lost in your cleavage.
Hugs often turn into a battle to avoid bumping boobs. Or chests.
Basically, hugs and big boobs rarely go together, unless you’ve perfected the art of hugging. (If you have, can you write a guide to it and send it to me, please?)
There’s boob sweat. Always.
And, honestly guys, IT DOESN’T MAKE FOR THE SEXIEST DATE NIGHT :(((((((
On the *unfortunate* days that your bra isn’t fully supportive of you, you sometimes climb down the stairs in private…
While holding your boobs with your hands for extra support.
Your boobs have left their mark. Nah, not in the good, cheesy way.
They’ve left their mark in the form of permanent indents on your shoulders, courtesy your hardworking bra straps.
You sometimes wonder why people are staring strangely at you and then you realise that it’s because your boobs have made their presence…known.
Despite your best attempts to contain them.
“I’m sorry, are they real?” is a genuine question.
And the most depressing part about all of this is that you don’t HAVE THE MONEY FOR FAKE BOOBS! 🙁
Losing weight/ going on a diet is always a bit of a fail because you KNOW that at least 20% of your weight comes from your boobs.
And there’s nothing much you can do about them, so you just accept that your boobs don’t agree with dieting. Or you. Or your general existence.
Those super-expensive lingerie shops often don’t have your size and you can almost feel the salespersons’ pity…
Because these shops have bras for for 3k but DO NOT HAVE YOUR SIZE. Then you realise that you now have an extra 3k and feel just a little bit happier.
You know how people do a tiny dance/ jump whenever they’re excited?
You’ve dared to do that, occasionally. And it ended with certain body parts jiggling a little too much – basically, you can’t jump for joy. Or, really, jump at all.
On the days you feel particularly riskque, you wear a slightly low-neck top.
Of course, that’s followed by regret almost the moment you step out, because cleavage…cleavage everywhere.
Your friends often tag you in big boob posts/ memes on Facebook, conveniently forgetting that you have family on Facebook.
A family that would prefer that your boobs are not discussed in public.
Swimming = “you adjusting your boobs while the material sticks awkwardly to them” sessions.
And then people think you’re trying to be sexy, when, really, you’re trying to be the EXACT OPPOSITE of sexy.
Dating online = you telling guys repeatedly that you aren’t there for hook-ups (unless you are, in which case, HAVE FUN, GURL!)… while they wonder why all your photos have cleavage.
Of course, you don’t really have much choice in the matter of cleavage, but that’s not something you can explain on Tinder.
Long necklaces sometimes get lost in your boobs, and you can’t even really feel them because of the all…cushioning there.
There have been many, many times that you’ve eventually taken off your necklace.
Sleepovers normally involve you trying to figure out HOW to sleep.
Do you sleep on your side and risk your boobs spilling out? Do you sleep on your back like a weird, busty mummy? Or do you sleep on your stomach and risk boob strangulation? This usually ends with you not sleeping at all.
Your version of exercising involves struggling to get something slightly fitted over your chest.
Of course, actual exercising involves you struggling to wear 2 sports bras together, and you gave up on that ages ago.
But the truth is, no matter HOW MUCH you complain about your boobs, you can’t imagine life without them.
They’re part of you. Literally.