I was born with small breasts. Like everybody else, you know. No biggie.

It started to become a big deal not too late in my life, though. Because they just didn’t seem to grow. At the age of about eight I still had nothing worth mentioning, while my best friend at that time already had quite a lot to show. She had to wear a bra and I was convinced that this was the way it was supposed to be. I hated my body for not playing by the rules, at the age of eight. As a logical consequence I started pulling the tiny mass that had built around my nipples on a daily basis, hoping that this would help.

It didn’t. Some time around the age of 12 I still had ridiculously small boobs. By that time EVERYBODY was wearing bras at school so I got myself some, too. You know, the ones from H&M with the pads about as thick as a hand? That looked super funny if you didn’t have enough to fill them with? Yeah… it helped a little if you stuffed them with toilet paper, just the right amount to max out the full potential while not risking for the paper to stick out during class. So stressful, but I managed for nobody to notice – at least I thought so.

About a year later it finally happened. They had grown. Significantly. They were still ridiculously small, but all of my wishful thinking must have worked, because people were starting to notice and make fun of me, asking if I had started padding them with toilet paper. Even my mother asked. And so did a guy from my class who had always called me double A. Luckily he wasn’t exactly handsome so I could focus all my energy on wondering where a person with a face like his might get all the self-confidence from, making fun of other people. That’s a 75B, you loser.

If you ask me, I swear they didn’t grow any more since I was 13. What can I say – years went by and I have learnt to live with them. Learn seems like a harsh word now, but I guess that’s exactly what happened, as miserable as it sounds: as soon as I realized that no man ever seemed to mind going snack size, everything was ok. Yay me. Who would have known that I’d grow up to become a woman confident enough to share even such embarrassing details as all of those above with you.

There were times when I was super tempted to help those sad little stepchildren with hormones, but you know what my opinion on the pill is. There were times when I was absolutely sure I’d end up having them cut and stuffed like a turkey, but then I came back to my senses, remembering what my opinion on all kinds of plastic surgery is. Phew. Imagine me running around with two beachballs, just because maybe one out of 10 men is enough of a shmuck to prefer stiff watermelons over the real, modest but natural deal…

Anyway, why all these details, here and now?

For one, I know that there are girls out there who are thinking about getting something done, starting at the age of about 14, waiting to finally turn 18 and old enough not to ask their parents for permission. I know that there are women out there who never quite seem to get the thought out of their heads, that a little more might be just the only thing missing in order to be fully confident – even if, in fact, they already have ‘enough’.

And isn’t that sad? To be living in such a dark state of mind, instead of appreciating the amazing fact that you never have a problem finding a pretty (not pretty scary) bra? Ask your friend with the huge tits and she’ll tell you her own mission impossible. Instead of appreciating the fact that yours will probably never sag and forever look like two young chicks? Ask your friends with huge boobs, many of them will soon be picking up theirs from the floor. Instead of appreciating that sleeping is not a problem and so isn’t running and standing. Ask your friend with the huge tatas, she’ll tell you something about back pain and how she’s fantasizing about a reduction. And finally, instead of appreciating that looking tacky is never an issue – I can wear slits down to my navel and still look more modest than Pam A sporting a turtleneck. #freethenipple

And second, I just came back from my first mammography (aka the soft version of it, for females under 40, which only includes ultrasound and extensive scanning by hand) ever and decided to warmly recommend it to you. Besides having my two little girls massaged and scanned by hand for a considerably longer time than the usual five seconds at the gynecologist, the procedure involved ultrasound and detailed conversation about my breasts and their inner life, which by the way is always the same, no matter what size. Apart from being left at ease for the rest of the year, I learnt a little more about my body, which is always fascinating. And necessary.*

So if any of this sounded familiar to you, here, this is your sign: instead of wondering a second more about the size of any of your body parts, make sure they are healthy first. Because breast cancer is the most frequent type of cancer for women in many countries. And because, to put it simply, being healthy is pretty damn sexy.

Don’t get me wrong – me too, I find big boobs beautiful. Sometimes I find myself staring at them, too. I sure wouldn’t mind having them and I’d appreciate them just as much as those I am equipped with. Just see this as a little pep talk to those in need.

Let me know if you think that I’m overcautious or just leave a compassionate hi for my boobies – I always appreciate your feedback.

Enjoyment come in all shapes and sizes, trust me.



P.s.: Did you know that some companies won’t work with me because y’all don’t follow @girlcasm on Facebook? If it’s really such a big of a deal for you to hit that sad button, I hope at least you feel bad for not doing so. xoxo

*If you’re young and you feel like your gynecologist is spending a sufficient amount of time on scanning your breasts (more than a couple of seconds of touching), this might be enough for you and your needs. I don’t say you have to freak out and walk around being afraid of cancer, I’m just saying you should ask yourself if your doctor is doing what he can to make sure you’re ok. Another option could be to ask him to perform a more thorough scan by hand, depending on your needs and situation. Also, make sure to be aware of changes you notice yourself.

Pic credit: love.watts

Share This:

4 thoughts on “AA

  1. Kerstin

    Danke für den Beitrag! Finde auch den Aufruf, die Brüste untersuchen zu lassen, gut. In meinem Umfeld ist das leider selten ein Thema bzw. vielen Frauen ist es unangenehm, darüber zu sprechen, warum auch immer.
    Was ich allerdings etwas schade finde, ist, dass du kleine Brüste positiv darstellst und zeitgleich größere Brüste abwertest. Vielleicht fühle ich mich da auch etwas persönlich angegriffen, weil meine eher letzteren entsprechen. Aber mich störte das etwas, vor allem weil dein Blogpost zunächst so befürwortend für alle Brustgrößen begann.

    Aber allgemein, großes Lob für diesen Beitrag und deinen Blog allgemein, lese gerne und regelmäßig. 🙂

    1. girlcasm Post author

      Hallo Kerstin – danke für deinen lieben Kommentar. Es tut mir leid, dass das so rüberkommt. Mir passiert es tatsächlich oft, dass ich einige Gedanken nicht genug ausführe und sich meine Art dem Leser nicht ganz erschliesst. Ich meinte aber den vorletzten Absatz absolut positiv und wollte damit als letztes nochmal erwähnen, dass grosse Brüste toll sind – ich gebe ja sogar zu, dass ich selber draufstarre 🙂 In diesem Sinne…alle Brüste sind toll 😉 Liebe Grüsse!

  2. Morena

    Ich liebe diesen Beitrag – uuuuund: Dein Schreibstil ist so keck, so toll!

    Ich verstehe dich so so gut.. Ich bin “leider” auch nicht mit grossen Brüsten gesegnet und habe mich IMMER dafür geschämt. Eine OP wäre aber auch für mich NIE in Frage gekommen. Es wird schon einen Grund geben, wieso wir so geboren sind und nicht anders… 🙂 danke für deinen inspirierenden Post! :-*

    1. girlcasm Post author

      Morena, vielen Dank für deinen lieben Kommentar. Es freut mich, wenn ich Menschen ab und an Spass bereiten kann 🙂


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *