[thirtiesgirl]

Molerat, I appreciate your words about being happy with who we are and trying to remain non-judgmental. And like you, I will often consider a person's reasons for making a change in their physical appearance before pronouncing judgment (or at least I try to). That said, though, it's actually been proven in many studies that extra weight is not the cause of so many 'health issues' the popular media would like us to believe. Medical studies have proven that at least half of the people considered 'overweight' have normal blood pressure and cholesterol levels, while an equal number of trim people suffer from some of the ills associated with extra weight. It's also been proven in countless studies that extra weight does not lead to heart and kidney failure, as we've so often been told by the popular media. In a 2007 study of nearly 6,900 male veterans assessed for heart disease, those who were considered 'obsese' were less likely to die over the next 7.5 years, compared with 'normal-weight' men.

My point in bringing this up is to disagree with your assessment that 'weight loss can improve health and longevity,' and bring the focus back to my question, which is can we apply the same standards of judgment to small chested women who get implants and fat women who lose weight? Let's leave the 'losing weight can lead to better health' argument out of it, if possible, because most of the fat girls know that argument is bunk.

I'd also argue that breast implants are not always done for cosmetic reasons. For girls who work in the sex or entertainment industries, breast implants can help their career. It's certainly not a reason I agree with, but I'd be willing to bet there's a sex worker or two out there who was perfectly happy with her small breasts, but got the implants to give her a leg up (so to speak) in the market.

[nakedmolerat]

Hey thirtiesgirl- (i'm a small busted girl even through pregnancy) the main difference i see between the heavy people losing weight and the small boobed people getting implants is that losing weight (provided it is a healthy weight loss done in a healthy way) is that there are many cases where weight loss can improve health and longevity, whereas I don't see any health benefits to implants. As far as I'm concerned, implants are purely cosmetic, with potential health risks rather than benefits involved, whereas at least eating right and exercising is great for the body even if it is done only for vanity. As far as people using unhealthy means/quick fixes to lose weight for primarily cosmetic reasons- I can understand that comparison. I guess in my opinion, the motives and methods can make a difference in how much I respect someone. But I think the more important issue you touched on was being happy with yourself and not judging others, regardless of how damn hard that can be!!!

[honeybunch]

Ooops well they didn't look so big in the movie. lol I guess maybe cuz I'm an a cup

[thirtiesgirl]

A question from a fat girl with big boobs (if you'll pardon the intrusion): I've been reading the last few posts, and I totally get where you guys are coming from with the feelings of anger at small busted women who get implants. I used to feel that way about fat people who lost weight...and to a certain extent, I sometimes still do. It's almost like they're a 'traitor' to the body type, and I have feelings of "how could you?", "can't you just like your body for what it is?", etc. But I eventually realized that the people who lost weight did it because they felt it was right for them. They were tired of gasping for air when they climbed up stairs, walked three blocks or whatever. And now I try to let that bitterness go, that they did it and I haven't.

Now, admittedly, I'm not going to feel the same way about someone who achieved weight loss through stomach stapling surgery. That's the sucker's way out, as far as I'm concerned, although I can understand how it's helpful for people who are considered morbidly obese. I feel the same way about diet pills and powders. If you're losing weight by ingesting drugs or substances that can be harmful for your body in other ways, you're no hero of mine. But I try to be supportive of people who have lost weight by changing their eating and exercise habits, and I'll even go so far as to try and be supportive if they have the help of Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig. It's a personal choice, and I don't really feel like it's my place to judge.

Now, FINALLY, to my question: how do you ladies feel about what I wrote above, when it comes to your issues with small boobed women getting implants? Does it resonate with you, or seem completely off base? ...Admittedly, the big difference between small boobed women getting implants and people losing weight through diet and exercise (and maybe the help of a weight loss program) is the surgery. Obviously, ya can't just grow big boobs once you're past the age of 16. So the surgery does play a factor. These women are having unnatural substances implanted in their bodies to achieve the look they want. ...But it's still a personal choice, is it not? We can't really judge them for making a choice that's different from our own...or can we? Are they 'traitors' for getting implants, and are fat people who lose weight 'traitors' to the rest of us who haven't? I'm interested to hear what you think and where you stand on the issue.

[Vendetta]

Honeybunch: I'm with ailurophile on that: they're huge. They're at least an A cup and that's big for me.

ailurophile: yep, I've made my mind about implants. Of course I'm gonna be sad if someone loves my plastic boobs but at least I'll be happy with myself. Being sad cause they don't like my flat chest or being sad cause they love my implants it's pretty much the same thing. I just don't think about it cause I won't do it for nobody besides me and I'm pretty sure I'll end up feeling like they're really mine. I wish I could feel voluptuous like you do, but I cannot. I am not voluptuous naked and don't feel like it. I wish I could think like you all do, but I cannot. I'm not willing to feel like this during a big part of my life, life's too short. I'm taking the cowards way I hope I can be supported too at this thread for my decision, it's gonna take a while until surgery, probably a year or more. I admire and support your thoughts and decisions no matter what. You've been my therapy.

[ailurophile]

Thanx to you girls, I have already felt a bit of improvement since we’ve “met”. Many times during sex, I feel sexy and actually voluptuous and when it is over and I am back to reality, I cry and go into a deep state of embarrassment and depression. My new bo and I had a wonderful night last night….and this morning! ….as usual but this was different. I felt sexy and enjoyed every moment. When it was over, several hours later, I felt... okay. I didn’t cry, I didn’t get upset. But I thought of you girls often. Yes, I thought of you during my special moment last night! Your influence made my little 32 less than B’s feel “smokin' hot”. It isn't over yet though. I gotta say I’m still bitter but your support has helped me feel better about myself. Thanx for being here!

Vendetta: It sounds like you really want them and that story has confirmed your feelings. You should do what will make you happy.

I had seen this woman many times before, and noticed that we shared the same body type: tall, thin, and completely flat-chested. But now the change beneath her spandex top was impossible to miss. She had been supersized. She had gotten a boob job. And I felt as if I were the last small-breasted woman at the East Bank Club.

That’s exactly how I would feel. Shouldn’t we be supporting each other and our “rare breed”?? I am not only jealous of girls with breasts but I am also jealous of girls with implants. I worked with a girl about 10+ years ago who was about my size and got implants. It felt like a slap in the face. I, too, had that feeling of the last small-breasted woman. I feel this way, even though I’ve considered implants so many times. Previously I’ve mentioned my fears about implants gone wrong as well as the fact that I don’t want someone loving my breasts which aren’t really mine. I think that would be a terrible feeling of my man slobbering all over my plastic boobs instead of loving my natural yet tiny breasts. Yet, I still think about implants. What’s wrong with me? “I went to war with myself in a battle between feminism and femininity.” I’m fighting that war but I’m rooting for feminism.

Karategrrl: Are puffy nipples supposed to be sexy? In some porn, it seems they are supposed to be but I don’t like them. Mine are a little on the puffy side and I always thought there was something wrong with me. I also thought it was because I’m so small. Is this a normal turn on?

Honeybunch: Not sure what you’re looking at. They’re HUGE!!!

[honeybunch]

ETA, I almost NEVER go into the small bust thread. It makes me feel bad about myself because there is a lot of harshness there. Somehow it hurts more when another woman calls you a slut/disrespects you simply because you have big boobs.

I took that from the large forum. Auch. She may not be reading the same forum I've been.

Okay am I gonna have to go back and read this whole thread???

ETA:
My breasts looked very fake and airbrushed when they swelled with milk. It looked like I had an obvious boob job.

[honeybunch]

Hey fellow small busties!!! Last night I was watching Live and Let Die featuring a very young and thin Jane Seymour with smallish breasts. First thing I thought about was yall!

Enjoy!

[crinoline]

As for pregnancy effect - my mother went from a AA to a C from her first pregnancy and then went up a little more with each subsequent pregnancy.
I don't know if that's very common, but it's happened to several women in my family. So it's definitely possible.

[karategrrl]

GREAT story about your legs, strongirl!!

I, too, am confused about the Gwen photots. The one where she's flashing could be retouched. Look carefully, and Tony Canal's got his cock out (lower-left hand corner of the pic). I know the drummer has a thing for being naked, but I never took the whole band to be that way. However...in the other shot, that sure looks real. Did pregnancy do that? CAN pregnancy do that? I've heard most moms complain about "deflation" after birth/breastfeeding. Whether they're real or not, they do look great. In the "flashing" photo, that's pretty much what I'd like on my chest (and with puffier nipples, I'd be ecstatic)!!

When I have more time, I MUST share a great story from today....to be continued....

[Vendetta]

I found this on the Internet. Thought I'd share I'm sorry that it is huge!


I had 2.4 miles to go on the treadmill when she sauntered down the aisle of the health club. How could she have? I wondered, fixing her with a glare. I had seen this woman many times before, and noticed that we shared the same body type: tall, thin, and completely flat-chested. But now the change beneath her spandex top was impossible to miss. She had been supersized. She had gotten a boob job. And I felt as if I were the last small-breasted woman at the East Bank Club.
Sixteen years earlier, my mother had dragged me into the local intimate apparel shop to be fitted for a training bra. Oooh, honey, soon you’ll come in here for bras my size! trilled a saleswoman with pendulous breasts. But as time went on, my bosoms never filled anything more than a 32 A-cup. Apparently, they were untrainable.
While my breasts never did develop, my attitude toward them changed depending on things as arbitrary as clothing styles and seasons, and as earth-shattering as male attention and popularity. They remained a source of unhappiness and anxiety, deeply embedded in my sense of my femininity. Last year, just before I turned 28, I did something about them; I got implants. This is a choice I share with hundreds of thousands of other women. Some of these women are married, with loving husbands, but I suspect that many, like me, are single. And l bet that many of them once shared my disdain for the idea of getting implants. No two case histories are alike, but this is the story of what brought me around.
* * *
For the first two years of high school, I was on an even playing field with the rest of the girls in my class. By senior year, however, my playing field remained level while theirs had sprouted hills. One day at the bar I was told I had the breasts of a thirteen-year-old. After that, I stopped buying bras in my size. Keep in mind, this was long before the words Wonder bra and water bra were part of my lingerie vernacular, and padded bras in my size did nothing for my chest but protect it from flying objects. So I started buying larger bras, thinking the extra fabric created the illusion of more volume. Until a surprise bear hug would crumple my chest like a collapsed soufflé.
In college, I faced the tribulations of dating with the added burden of raging insecurity about my body. I was built like a little boy and competing for male attention with girls three times my size in all the places that mattered. My one saving grace was that it was the heyday of the J. Crew look, and with it came a hundred ways to camouflage a figure flaw, from draping a sweater just so over the shoulders, say, to wearing two bras at once.
This is where I wish I could say that I wised up after college. It would be nice to proclaim that I realized breasts could not make me a woman, or that beauty issued from within and bore no relation whatsoever to cup size. But I was repulsed by how I looked in clothes without a little help; I felt less than a woman, somehow a failure when images of women’s breasts bombarded my senses, from the Statue of Liberty to Sesame Street’s Susan.
The ink was barely dry on my college diploma when I was hired as an editorial assistant for a women’s magazine in New York. For my first assignment, I was asked to write a variation on the theme that women’s magazines peddle like junk food: what men really want. I was to troll Upper East Side bars over two separate weekends to see how many men I could attract. I would wear racy little ensembles of tight-fitting tops and leather pants. The variable would be the size of my breasts.
On the first weekend, I went out unenhanced, and by the end had been asked out by two men. Not bad, I thought. The next week, I went to the same bars wearing the same ensemble, but this time I fortified my bra with silicone inserts that looked suspiciously like raw chicken cutlets. With my enhanced silhouette, four men bought me drinks, four asked for my number, and one composed a song for me on the spot. I was thrilled by the attention, but crushed by what it signified.
I never did give those cutlets back to my editor, and soon they went everywhere I did. After a while, I realized I couldn’t stop wearing them, for fear that someone might notice the drastic change beneath my shirt. This was especially tricky with new lovers; when they met me, I was a full B cup; when they saw me naked, I was barely an A. It was blatantly false advertising. But the solution to my problem seemed worse than the problem itself.
* * *
When I first considered breast implants in the early nineties, they were still unsafe and looked like overfilled water balloons. Later, when buying breasts became as common as getting a manicure, I was too scared to admit I wanted to do what I had judged other women so harshly for. There was also the bimbo factor to consider. Would a big rack diminish my credibility as a professional? Besides, I didn’t have enough money to finance the procedure, and no means of getting it.
Throughout my 20s, measuring 104 pounds at five feet seven, I believed I was doomed to remain slightly built. So I decided to play to my strengths. Thus began my love of Lilliputian clothes: Tight pants, tiny tops, micromini skirts, and baby T-shirts made up my wardrobe: folded neatly, they could all fit in a shoebox. I was going for an optical illusion; the smaller the clothes, the larger my breasts would seem (or so I thought). I’m pretty sure I looked like a tramp in those years, but I was aching to feel feminine and thought I had found a way.
With the advent of self-help books, I vowed to date only men who loved my body’s flaws and all. Which was ironic, because I didn’t love my body at all. Not a single boyfriend lived up to my magical standards, and I spent six years on what felt like one long bad date. In search of reassurance, I would dissect every look, every move, every gesture my lovers made, and see or imagine I’d seen disapproval. None of them gave me the self-esteem I was looking for. It had to come from within, I realized, but I hadn’t the faintest idea of how to find it.
Then came a man who fell in love with my intellect and sense of humor (OK, so before he went for my mind he had seen me at the gym and lusted after my body). With him, I found a new inner strength and calm.
Then, due to some menstrual problems, my doctor prescribed me a different birth control pill. In two months, my barely A’s went to a sore but full A. I was thrilled. I started shopping for clothes and sexy lingerie, the one I was never able to wear before. The bras actually touched my skin, the bikinis looked better and my sex drive went crazy. I felt like a million bucks. I put on some weight and the strange part was, I kind of liked the new hips. No longer boyish, they looked adult and feminine.

Five months later they shrunk. What happened? I changed BC pills five times, I think I actually tried all of them available on the market. Nothing happened. The bras didn’t fit anymore. They weren’t even sore anymore. The clothes didn’t fit that good anymore. I didn’t feel feminine anymore. After five birth control pills and having to give away all my new clothes, I fell into depression. I was lopsided with the torso of a Girl Scout and the hips of a troop leader.
After a few weeks of weedy salads and pasty diet shakes, I realized it was time to resurrect The Question: Should I have my breasts done? I asked my boyfriend one night as I finished a burrito he had almost thrown in the trash. His eyes widened as he tried to disguise his enthusiasm. I love your body, but I would definitely support your decision to do it; he said. The discussion went no further that night, but he did fall asleep with what looked to me like a smile on his face.
Almost everyone was in favor of the surgery. The only naysayers were a few friends with uncomfortably large breasts, and one Christian Scientist. I went to war with myself in a battle between feminism and femininity. Did artificially enhancing myself mean I was nothing more than a victim of societal programming? Would I lose credibility as an intelligent woman? Did I really want to go the rest of my life not knowing what it was like to have cleavage? Did I really want to go the rest of my life not knowing what it was like to have breasts?
In the end, I couldn’t shake the notion that larger breasts would make my hips look more proportionate. I couldn’t stop fantasizing about strapless dresses, tank tops, and fitted shirts. Mostly, I craved the experience of looking and feeling feminine at the same time.
I found my surgeon by calling the Northwestern Medical Faculty Foundation, and promptly made an appointment for a consultation. My boyfriend and I then scoured men’s magazines for body types like mine and shopped the Victoria’s Secret catalog for breasts instead of bras. Not surprisingly, his taste veered toward the amply endowed, while I favored more petite ladies.
Just a B cup. That’s all I wanted. An enhancement so subtle that no one could tell I’d gone under the knife. You’ll go bigger, my friends predicted. But they knew nothing, I thought. I was a journalist and didn’t think a stripper-size set of bosoms would go over too well during interviews with clergy and politicians.
The morning of my consultation I sat in the doctor’s exam room tapping my foot nervously as my boyfriend paced a hole in the linoleum. Finally, the surgeon entered. Well, now, you certainly are a candidate for breast augmentation; he exclaimed as I stood before him, naked to the waist. Next, he photographed my bare chest and downloaded the digital image into his computer.
Holy crap, my breasts are so small! I blurted.
Next, it was time to pick a size for my new and improved body. The doctor digitally cut and pasted other patients’ breasts onto the picture of my torso to give me an idea of what different sizes would look like on me. By the time I had decided on a C cup (so my friends were right; big deal), my brain was wildly overstimulated and I couldn’t bear to look at any more breasts: even my own. That night, I undressed in the dark.
* * *
I was on an adrenaline high until I had to tell my parents. They were spectacularly furious. In their minds, I was about to compromise my perfect figure for no reason other than vanity. My mother scrounged up every story she could find to discredit breast augmentation, while my father delivered stern lectures about my fiscal stupidity. This was to be the first time I had openly defied my parents. It felt like jumping from the high dive into a very small pool.
Then, exactly a week before the surgery, my boyfriend broke up with me, not because of my impending surgery but because of his need to resolve his issues about commitment. This was horrible, but not as horrible as the realization that with him went my post-op ride home and my caretaker.
I screened my calls that night to avoid another emotional pummeling from my parents. Hello, this is your mother; said her message. Your father will be there on Friday to bring you back to our house and we will take care of you all weekend. Good-bye. I love you. This time, I did exactly as my mother told me.
* * *
On Friday, at exactly 9:15 a.m., I lay down on the operating table. The anesthesia took hold at 9:20, and by 11 I was being wheeled into recovery. At noon, a nurse sat me up and helped me put on my sweatshirt. Holy crap! I’ve got breasts! I mumbled, peering down at my bulging bandages. She helped me off the gurney and out to the waiting room.
There sat my father. My Wall Street Journal–reading, stock-trading, cell-phone-preoccupied daddy, picking up his baby girl after she had gotten the breasts he so deeply opposed. Clearing his throat, he asked, How are you feeling? He tried not to let his gaze wander from my face. Good, good; I said, and promptly burst into a giggle fit.
The laughter stopped when I lifted my arm for the seat belt on the ride home. My incisions were in my armpits, and the slightest movement smarted like hell. I spent the weekend drifting in and out of a Vicodin haze, and on Monday I was back at the doctor’s office having my bandages removed. It’ll be easier to see them if you open your eyes; he said. And there they were: the breasts I had always wanted but had been too afraid to buy.
They were swollen for the first few weeks, like flesh-colored alarm bells, sitting about as high and just as firm. But my new silhouette garnered rave reviews from everyone I knew. And, of course, there were wisecracks.
I fell madly in love with my new body. I dressed every morning feeling proportionate and feminine. The sight of myself naked was a pleasant shock for the first few months, and on a couple of occasions, when I was alone and the blinds were closed, I tried on my old mini-clothes just to give myself a tasty thrill.
Not too long after, my boyfriend and I got back together and fell even more in love. All four of us; my breasts, my boyfriend, and I have softened and settled into a quiet lifestyle.
Back at the East Bank Club after four months of imposed sloth, I tried to distract myself from the pain of stomach crunches with some deep thinking: Which came first, the chicken or the breast? Did the surgery make me feel mature, or had I matured enough to know it was the right choice? Hard as I searched, there were no regrets, no second thoughts. My reverie was interrupted when the woman I had glared at all those months before strutted by, her Ladies locked and loaded in her jogbra. This time, I wasn’t bitter toward her. I was finally satisfied with myself; inside and out. And I owe every ounce of credit for that to me, my surgeon and Visa.

[Vendetta]

Gwen Stefani confuses me too... I remember her being flat chested yes and now she has those perfect breasts? Maybe pregnancy? Implants? If they're implants they look damn good and if they're a consequence of pregnancy, geez I'll pray for mine to end up like that!

[ailurophile]

Strongirl: You're very sweet. Thanx for the ego boost. Your bf is a little weird though. We need more of them around. I know I shouldn't even care about what other people think, men or women. But it seems that other people's opinions shape my confidence level. That's my low self esteem talking. Guys like your bf are far and few between. I'm just learning more about my new guy and I hope he's much like yours. I don't think he's "into" small breasts, as I've noticed him notice big breasts but I think he likes mine b/c they're on me and he likes me. Know what I mean? I've mentioned I'm not happy with them and he's said sweet things and doesn't ignore them.

Karategrrl: You mentioned a few celebrities with small breasts, one of them being Gwen Stefani. Did she have implants?? I went searching the internet for the celebrities you mentioned to make me feel...well, like I can be cool with tiny boobs too. I saw her in concert and I've seen many pics of her. She was as flat as me but I just saw a nude pic of her flashing and she is quite full and round and I would give alot to look like that. The website is www.heaven666.org. It's kind of an icky site but search for her and you'll see. Hmmmm.......

[neurotic.nelly]

..until I realized I was looking at MY legs. It was a good lesson. Seen through the filter of my own insecurity, I looked awful...tricked into removing that filter, I actually WAS the girl I was envying.

I love this story, strongirl.

On the subject of harshness against large breasted women, I have read some things that made me wince for larger breasted women, once or twice. But, I know the comments stem from frustration, and grief.
Larger breasts do not make women whores. They. Just. Don't. The behavior makes the whore, and the titties on whores vary.

Back to lovely small breasts...

Today, I wore a tank top with a built in bra, and another shirt over it, that really emphasized how small I am. And it felt weird at first, but, I also thought it looked sweet and cool and tough.

I think I will start shopping for bras online b/c I do not want extra padding. I mean, in the stores I go out of my way to find a good bra that shapes my breasts nicely with the least amount of padding. My bras are slightly padded, so today, wearing that shirt that flattened them, plus I had on no bra, - this felt really strange today, but I still felt sexy, and I still got looks, so whateva.

Here's an interesting thought about breast size and cultural preferences. Western, European, American-white desire emphasize large breasts ~ gooooood, sexy, and must haves.

(Don't get me wrong, breasts are lovely to all people from various cultures and nations)

I think it means that some people are more affected by this standard of beauty, especially if you are of that group or if you heavily identify with that group, you're less accepting of the smaller beauties and more obsessed about having them enlarged, and more wiling to go to the extremes to get and keep them.

My culture puts emphasis equally on the breasts and the buttocks, and so, lucky for me, I am well endowed in the lower region, and so, I am more inclined to accept my breasts as small and sexy, and I tend to downplay my breasts, and up play the other assets (pun intended). I downplay my breasts unconsciously too, like I am protective of them. Another example, today, I wanted to walk to the store, and I didn't want to wear a bra under this sun dress because it doesn't look right, but they'd jiggle a little and I do not want people staring. I want to be able to go braless though because it is comfortable.

[strongirl]

Karategrrl, you are so right - this thread is on fire right now with exciting thinking. It's awesome to see.

>>I do my best to feel good about what I have, and sometimes the only way I can do that is to say, "Yay, no back pain!" and "I can wear any kind of shirt!" and "Implants...UNHEALTHY!" but then when I do, I get blasted for being insenstive to people who have back pain, have limited shirt options, or are considering (or who have gotten) implants. Sometimes I feel like I can't win no matter what I say. <<

I know. That was very well-said! I think it is useful to consider what it might be like to have another person's blessings and curses; it can help us appreciate our own place in life. But at the end of the day, the more time we spend comparing ourselves to others and the less time we spend simply enjoying our own lives and bodies for what they are, the more unhappy we are going to be. And it can be utterly baseless and just a reflection of our own insecurity - your mistakenly thinking your tits were bigger in the mirror reminds me of when I was taking one of those trendy pole-dancing classes and the girl next to me was this gorgeous, slender dancer type. I thought "Shit, why can't I have legs like hers?" I felt like an ugly cow next to her; I was wallowing in self-loathing. Minutes later we were on the floor with our legs spread in the air, and told to raise our heads up. When I did, I saw legs in the mirror and thought "Ugh, there she is again with those gorgeous legs"...until I realized I was looking at MY legs. It was a good lesson. Seen through the filter of my own insecurity, I looked awful...tricked into removing that filter, I actually WAS the girl I was envying.

Ailurophile: >>But I hate the thought of going braless b/c I have two little points which just look stupid<<
Just to make you question that assumption, my bf and I were having very chatty sex last night and he voiced how much he loves the look of tits that have no surrounding breast tissue but are just pointy, cone-shaped nipples. Is that what yours are like? If so, please stay away from my bf!

[karategrrl]

OMG, what great thoughts bouncing around in here!!!!!

About "harshness" toward larger busties, I know I've said a few things that may have been along the "skinny bitch" vein, and also I've said many things that I didnt' mean that way but were perceived that way. I honestly try to be accepting of everything, especially everyone's opinions about everything, but I have to admit to a certain amount of palpable frustration when it comes to certain things, such as large busted women saying, "lucky you, no back pain!" or ESPECIALLY when people with B or C cups complain about their "small" breasts and how they should get augmented. WTF???! It's like someone with a million dollars trying to tell me what a burden it is to manage all that money. Ha.

No, I don't have back pain and people typically don't talk to my chest, and believe me, I try and count my blessings. I can't change my breast size so I do my best to feel good about what I have, and sometimes the only way I can do that is to say, "Yay, no back pain!" and "I can wear any kind of shirt!" and "Implants...UNHEALTHY!" but then when I do, I get blasted for being insenstive to people who have back pain, have limited shirt options, or are considering (or who have gotten) implants. Sometimes I feel like I can't win no matter what I say. I'm not trying to be harsh or insensitive to anyone, but one of the ways we process thoughts and feelings is to get them out in the open. Quite honestly, this is the only place I can think of where women get together and talk about this topic. I feel bad that anyone has steered clear of this forum because it seemed harsh. <Mental processing complete>

Anyhoo, ailurophille:
"Good for you!"???? Interesting comment, but I guess not totally surprising from someone in the plastic surgery realm. I remember seeing a documentary that followed a few women as they got breast implants. There was a receptionist talking to a woman before she went into surgery, to prep her and tell her what to expect. I expected the usual talk about "When you wake up you will have pain, and when you do, you can take the pain pills..." that sort of thing. Instead it was, "Your clothes will fit better, you will feel better about yourself, you will feel like a woman finally..." She might as well have said, "you poor thing who nature gypped with no breasts like everyone else. Let's fix you!" Interesting.

i see eleven:
Your comments=LOL!
1. I would SO do a convention!! (Bras optional!)
2. I also have been doing the positive thinking thing, and though I'm far from being great with it, I have to say it has really helped me, and continues to help me, with this breast issue as well as everything else in my life.
3. YES, I have had "I will grow my boobs!" thoughts!!! Though the times I've done it, I've made sure to approach it in a positive way, just having fun with the possibility but totally loving and appreciating my breasts, health, and life as they are--already perfect. I have to say, I have had moments where I caught a glimpse of my naked boobies and said, "Wha?? Are they bigger?" and then realized they aren't, but b/c my perception is changing, I'm seeing the glass (or bra cup?!) as half full rather than half empty.

[Vendetta]

crinoline - yep, I was. Or I guess I wasn't that much or I wouldn't wear those heavily padded bras and wouldn't had been so sensitive about it to this point. Now I guess I dislike my breasts more than he does. And nothing seems to be changing that. I am at a small breast support group because I don't like my breasts, not because my bf prefers bigger ones. I see myself dreaming about bigger breasts with this guy, alone or with any other guy.

[dani1983]

For those of you who consider getting "new boobies", as I have occasionally, and for whom part of the problem is a big-breast favoring boyfriend (unlike mine), I'd like to propose the concept that maybe you should get a new boyfriend instead of new boobies.

I can't say for sure since each relationship is unique and there's always the whole situation to consider. But think about the possibility that it would be:

1) Cheaper and better for your finances.
2) Better for your physical health.
3) Better for your mental health and self esteem.
4) Better for your sex life, with a new boyfriend who loves your tits.

I don't know but I do think it is something to consider.

No that's not my case, I don' t have a bf, not even thinking about getting one right now! and all of my exes loved my boobies, they always say they were the right size and so perky. I just want my C cup back! (they grew when I started taking birth control pills)

[ailurophile]

i see eleven: ailurophile (ay-loor-o-feel) means one who likes cats, cat lover. I checked for a blogspot for ya. I can't find anything in what you are looking for. I understand what you mean though. We get excited when we see other girls like us in our "rare breed", if only to know we are not alone.

crinoline: I haven't been here long...a week to be exact. I admit I feel a harshness toward not just large breasted girls but anyone with breasts to speak of. But I'm working on it. That's why I'm here.

[crinoline]

On the "harshness", I don't think any Busties are being intentionally mean ever, but I do think there is a theme that appears in both threads that goes something like this:

"My (insert word 'small' or 'large' here) breasts may not be perfect but it's better than being too (insert opposite word here)."

The big girls don't want to feel less feminine. The small girls don't want back pain and stares. OK. That's all valid and I've done it too. But...isn't it better to emphasize body acceptance and generosity, toward ourselves and others? To revel in the beauty and sensuality that we possess and to reflect and appreciate others' beauty when they share it with us? I sure think so. And I think they're related - the more we can embody the self-loving perspective that AnnaK and I indulged in (in our respective threads), the more natural it is to feel generous and appreciative of others, rather than jealous or disapproving.

So I urge - nay, DARE - all of you to do something similar to what AnnaK and I did, either here or just to yourself in the mirror or with your lover in bed. (And thank you, Karategrrl and AnnaK for the positive feedback - y'all sound like red-hot babes yourselves!)

Flaunt it! Celebrate it! Love your beautiful breasts and share them with others joyously!

You may be surprised at what happens.

strongirl makes an excellent point. The important thing is to move toward body acceptance both for ourselves and for others. So sg - I'll take you up on that dare tonight, I'm sure the boy will appreciate it.

I have noticed a sort of unconscious harshness toward our larger breasted sisters in this thread. It's similar to the "skinny bitch" syndrome, where it's okay to put down thin women because they've achieved an "impossible ideal". The bias isn't fair in either case.

The thread got a little negative for a while, so I stopped posting as frequently. I'm encouraged by all of the body-positive, breast-positive talk around here lately, though. I'm with AP on the point that we're all women, we all have breasts, we're all on the same team. Now, whether your membership badges are big or small, you're still an important member of TEAM TITTIE!

V- I was confused when you said that nixing the current boyfriend would not help your situation. I remember you saying that you were once body positive and confident just as you are, before him.