If you looked up the word “petite,” you would find a picture of me. 5’1” weighing around 108 lbs on average and between a rectangle and pear shape. For many years I grappled with whether to call myself a late bloomer since I didn’t feel like I did much blooming at all when my bra size growth came to a screeching halt at a whopping 32A. The self-esteem roller coaster had plenty of ups and downs before I became the confident woman I am today. There was the state of depression stage when every time I went shopping with girl friends all I bought was inconsolable frustration because nothing fit like it did on my friends. Then there was the F-it stage when I embraced the attitude of my foresisters and went braless, but the stage that was rock bottom was when I gave in and purchased a bra that made me two cup sizes bigger.
When I first tried on said bra, I’ll admit that my jaw dropped. Suddenly I was no longer a pear shape but a Coke bottle. I went straight to the cash register. The series of awkward moments that led me to donate this low-budget boob job transpired not over several days but over a few years, as I realized that the bra was standing in my way of feeling the way I wanted to about myself.
1. New boobs don’t like old clothes: This was something I was in denial about from the start. If I thought I looked hotter in my undies with my new bra then my clothes were going to look better than ever. Wrong. When I bought my clothes, I didn’t buy them for my new C cups, I bought them for my A cups, which meant my body didn’t look like a smokin’ hot Coke bottle but as if I had squished my way into now-ill-fitting clothes.
2. Faking it and everyone knew it but me: Just like stuffing your bra in the gym locker room when you’re fourteen, gaining two cup sizes overnight is not fooling anyone. Instead of feeling confident walking into a company meeting as everyone smiles and says good morning, something gnaws at you wondering, “Do they know that these aren’t real?” Yes, they do. So when you’re busy wondering why Bob the IT guy doesn’t know where your eyes are anymore or why your co-worker Jane can’t help but watch you undress in the gym locker room, I’ll just go ahead and give you the reason: You’re acting fake! Unlike trying out the ombre look or prancing around in four inch heels, I wasn’t making a fashion statement or expressing anything positive about myself. The only thing I was expressing was that I was insecure and didn’t think I was good enough.
3. I am good enough, good enough to be comfortable in my own skin and my own clothes:
You are too.