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dolariThis post brought to you probably by my lack of spironolactone. And the number 54D.
LAst night involved a LOT of running around attempting catch bus after bus since my truck was dropped off at the mechanic's last night.
After getting wrong directions to which bus I needed to take, I saw the bus I was supposed to take coming, and ran like the dickens to catch it (I missed). Later that evening, after my bus missed his exit and got to my stop VERY late, I ran to catch the bus that would get me home, only to have it drive off as I ran for it.
While I waited for the next bus, a Tourretic man screamed at me "Nice Tits" for 30 minutes.
Eventually, I took a taxi home. But that got me thinking....
One of the few things that went well in my transition was Boobs. In fact, it didn't go just well, it went spectacularly. While my mother and sister are both B cups, my grandmother was a DD and had gotten reduction surgery in the 80s. Guess who got Grandma's boob genes?
My breasts didn't start coming in until I was 26. But once they did, thanks to Dr. Chase and his "Let's fill you FULL of Estrogen, dammit!" regiment, by breasts literally exploded. A few months later, I complained to him about the pain I was having in them. Turns out they were just growing pains, but it lead to this lovely exchange:
Dr. Chase: "Sometimes you get breast pains if you sleep in a bra. Do you sleep in those falsies?"
Me: "I'm not wearing falsies."
Dr. Chase: "You're not?"
Me: "No."
Dr. Chase: "May I...see?"
::lifts up shirt:::
Dr. Chase: "Oh, my."
I'f I'm a D-Cup, stuck at a perpetual Tanner Stage III, I can only imagine what I would have been at Stage V. Or maybe I should just look at old pics of my granmother.
All those years of wanting and wishing for breasts, I got it into my head that having breasts must be so different that you MUST be aware of them at all times. I mean...they're RIGHT THERE! Literally under your nose (by a foot or two). They bounce. They jiggle. Move your arms and shoulders, and they move, too. As I saw in a lot of my standard-issue porn, you bend over, and they ::foomph:: right off your chest.
The thing about my boobs, though, is that they didn't come in till I was 26. So a lot of my life, I had a male flat chest...and I REMEMBER what that feels like (several of my genetic-bio-cis-chromosomal-whatever-the-in-word-is-these-days girlfriends tell me they can't remember what they "felt" like before puberty). I figured when I'd get them I'd notice my new boobs, too.
But it wasn't really till last night (I don't run often), that I realized, that while mine bounce, jiggle, move and pull...I'm not really AWARE of them unless they're moving incredibly violently (and me running is pretty violent). And I guess most women are probably not aware of them all the time, unless they're moving pretty violently. Your priopreperception just...adjusts.
Then again, my breasts aren't your average breasts. They're not teardropped shaped, or, for lack of a better word, "pendulous." They're just two D cup cone shaped mounds sitting on my chest, so they actually don't move much at all unless I'm running. Guess that just makes them perky. :) Thankfully, the bra "fills the shape" out better, so they're not just cones.
So yeah - running as a D-Cup, coneal or teardrop, not a lot of fun. :)
LAst night involved a LOT of running around attempting catch bus after bus since my truck was dropped off at the mechanic's last night.
After getting wrong directions to which bus I needed to take, I saw the bus I was supposed to take coming, and ran like the dickens to catch it (I missed). Later that evening, after my bus missed his exit and got to my stop VERY late, I ran to catch the bus that would get me home, only to have it drive off as I ran for it.
While I waited for the next bus, a Tourretic man screamed at me "Nice Tits" for 30 minutes.
Eventually, I took a taxi home. But that got me thinking....
One of the few things that went well in my transition was Boobs. In fact, it didn't go just well, it went spectacularly. While my mother and sister are both B cups, my grandmother was a DD and had gotten reduction surgery in the 80s. Guess who got Grandma's boob genes?
My breasts didn't start coming in until I was 26. But once they did, thanks to Dr. Chase and his "Let's fill you FULL of Estrogen, dammit!" regiment, by breasts literally exploded. A few months later, I complained to him about the pain I was having in them. Turns out they were just growing pains, but it lead to this lovely exchange:
Dr. Chase: "Sometimes you get breast pains if you sleep in a bra. Do you sleep in those falsies?"
Me: "I'm not wearing falsies."
Dr. Chase: "You're not?"
Me: "No."
Dr. Chase: "May I...see?"
::lifts up shirt:::
Dr. Chase: "Oh, my."
I'f I'm a D-Cup, stuck at a perpetual Tanner Stage III, I can only imagine what I would have been at Stage V. Or maybe I should just look at old pics of my granmother.
All those years of wanting and wishing for breasts, I got it into my head that having breasts must be so different that you MUST be aware of them at all times. I mean...they're RIGHT THERE! Literally under your nose (by a foot or two). They bounce. They jiggle. Move your arms and shoulders, and they move, too. As I saw in a lot of my standard-issue porn, you bend over, and they ::foomph:: right off your chest.
The thing about my boobs, though, is that they didn't come in till I was 26. So a lot of my life, I had a male flat chest...and I REMEMBER what that feels like (several of my genetic-bio-cis-chromosomal-whatever-the-in-word-is-these-days girlfriends tell me they can't remember what they "felt" like before puberty). I figured when I'd get them I'd notice my new boobs, too.
But it wasn't really till last night (I don't run often), that I realized, that while mine bounce, jiggle, move and pull...I'm not really AWARE of them unless they're moving incredibly violently (and me running is pretty violent). And I guess most women are probably not aware of them all the time, unless they're moving pretty violently. Your priopreperception just...adjusts.
Then again, my breasts aren't your average breasts. They're not teardropped shaped, or, for lack of a better word, "pendulous." They're just two D cup cone shaped mounds sitting on my chest, so they actually don't move much at all unless I'm running. Guess that just makes them perky. :) Thankfully, the bra "fills the shape" out better, so they're not just cones.
So yeah - running as a D-Cup, coneal or teardrop, not a lot of fun. :)
