Welcome to my world... A world where reality is second to laughter, where giggling is always optional, and where I make the rules! I hope you enjoy your journey into my innermost thoughts and feelings, and that your perspective is a little lighter when you go. (:
"We were made to be lovers, bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home."
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I've been away for a while, but I just realized it is almost November, and that means NaNoWriMo! I'm going to try again this year, so I decided to do a little practicing. That's right- more Write or Die. Seriously, I'm in love!
509 words in just over 10 minutes. I've got this NaNo in the bag!!
Yesterday, I found out I have bigger boobs.
My whole life I've been a 32A, and I was always alright with that. I have always said that I love my size, breasts included. I've never been bothered that I am the SMALLEST SIZE available in normal stores. But yesterday, when I found out my boobs are bigger, I got kind of... Excited. Not that I felt like I wasn't as beautiful when they were smaller, but I just felt more.. Womanly. It made a difference that I did not expect. When I tried on a bra that was supposed to be my size, I was shocked to see that it didn't seem to fit. I asked the opinion of 3 different people, and they all came to the conclusion that I was a bigger size than what I had supposed. And so, I bought that bigger size. And I went home, and I put it on, and I basked in my newfound not-small-boobness. Not having the smallest boobs out there makes a difference I didn't know could be there.
Does that make me a hypocrite? I KNOW that I was comfortable with myself before-- without a doubt. I felt beautiful, I was confident, I wasn't concerned that I was the opposite of well endowed. I had boobs, they were small, and I was happy with them. Now, I seem to feel a certain.. Self-concsiousness, a discomfort that wasn't there just 24 hours ago. Being a B cup isn't that big of a difference- is it?
Apparently, I was TOO comfortable with myself. Because now, knowing that I am different, it seems to make me nervous. I have no reason to be nervous with myself. Having a bigger bust doesn't make me a different person, I'm certain of that. So why should I be uncomfortable in my own skin?
As disconcerting as this is on its own, it might get worse...
I recently made a commitment to start working out. 3 days a week- cardio, legs, abs, arms, who knows- as well as dancing twice a week. The thing about working out... Is that it seems to create changes in a human body. And I'm well aware of this, I understand this fact, I truly am not surprised to know that this is something that happens. But... What if I start working out, I start getting a little toned, I get a little stronger.. And I panic? That wouldn't be something that I could handle. I don't want to finally get into a shape that I can be proud of.. And suddenly be too freaked out to keep it. I'm young. I should be in the best shape of my life, and I should be happy about it. So why would I be so frantic about my body changing? My body is NOT who I am. I make who I am every moment in word, thought, and deed. Not in bust size and muscle mass. There is nothing to be concerned about by way of my body changing, because I am STILL ME.
So there we have it. And, in case you're wondering, the above is all TRUE. Interesting.. The things you learn about yourself when you are frantically writing so your computer doesn't yell at you. Truly exciting! That's all for now, folks. I love you dearly- xoxo!!