© These Girls

© These Girls


Teresa and I have the same opinion on a lot of things. Basically on almost everything. There is one topic though, where we couldn’t disagree more. But let me start from the beginning.

My story today is about my body or let’s say a very specific and important part of it: My boobs. First of all, I want to say that from an objective point of view, there’s nothing wrong with them. I have a size 32C (at VS it’s even a 32D) which is solid I guess. Like it’s not super tiny but let’s be real, it’s definitely not big. They have a nice shape, perky and like a drop you could say, nipple facing upwards. So that’s cool. I don’t even have to wear a bra if I don’t want to. But damn they are wide apart. When I look at other girls and they have this bomb cleaveage it amazes me. I love it, to me it’s freakin hot. But to get that boobies-all-up-to-the-neck-and-squeezed-together look I would need one of those super super push-up bras, that feel like there’s already a boob hidden somewhere –  and no, I’m not here for it. Because if there’s one thing I don’t like is feeling fake (even if other people don’t know – but I do so hell NAH).

It all doesn’t sound so bad, my boobs are definitely ranking in the top 3 of “What Jana would change about her body if she could”. To me, big boobs are just the best. They are so feminine, sexy, lush and womanly. I would kill for Emily Ratajkowsiks boob but probably any girl would. That’s why I can never understand why Teresa is struggling with hers. I would gladly take all that volume.

I never used to think about them a lot. I got breasts (or at least a hint of it) quite early, when I was around 12. My mom and my sister both have good ones, bigger than mine for sure. I was really hoping to get the same but they stopped growing pretty much as quick as they started. I think it was in my early twenties when I started feeling subconscious about them. It wasn’t that I didn’t get any compliments from men (let’s be real though, a lot of them say a lot of things to get certain things, so that’s not anything that helped) but I realized something which is way worse: They don’t get any attention. Nothing. It’s like they aren’t even at the scene. They’re not even a freakin extra. Gunther has a bigger role in friends than my boobs have in my sex life.

Sometimes there’s maybe a little sucking (rarely), maybe some squeezing. But I never ever felt, that a guy was actually, genuinely turned on about them. Nah girl, not here, not tonight. Maybe it’s because most of the guys I’ve dated in my life are butt guys (I seriously hope I’m not just telling this to myself), but that’s not even a point. The point is that my breasts are average. And who likes being average? I certainly don’t. I’m not gonna lie, I thought about getting them done countless times. But as with all plastic surgery I always come to the same conclusion. If I ever have a daughter and she inherits my natural body features, I would never ever want her to think that she has to change something about herself, because obviously, her mom didn’t like the way she was. So issa no for me.

In the end, they’re here to stay, and they’re here for much bigger reason. So maybe I should just get over myself? Love them regardless. The struggle is so real for me. But I’m getting there, fingers crossed.


by Jana