My boobs look like a bottom
Thursday 19th February 2009
Flopped against the pillows, I was so tired, I could barely keep my eyes open. I just wanted to sleep. But my newborn son, Tom, had other ideas.
'Try feeding him now,' a nurse said.
A prickle of fear ran up my spine.
'I'd rather bottle feed,' I said.
'Breast is best,' she tutted.
Not if they're mine, I thought, looking down at my 44HH bangers. Yes, 44HH.
They were massive. And compared to 9lb 9oz Tom's tiny head, probably dangerous too.
'What if I fall asleep while breastfeeding?' I fretted. 'I might suffocate him.'
With each boob weighing 25lb, over a stone more than Tom, I was scared my mammoth mammaries might even crush him to death.Sounds daft, but it was a fear that had plagued me ever since giving birth to my first child, John, four years earlier. I'd refused to breastfeed then, and I was refusing to do it now. But as Tom suckled on a bottle, I felt guilty.
And it was all because of my breasts.
I'd hated them the moment they'd first started to grow when I was just 7 years old.
'You're an early developer,' my mum Melanie, now 52, had said.
Naturally, all the other girls at school were still in vests. Terrified that my schoolmates would
notice, I'd hidden my blooming bazookas under baggy school jumpers. But by the time I was 9, I couldn't disguise it any more. I was a 34B and needed my first bra. If I ignore them, maybe other people will, I thought desperately.Nature, sadly, had different ideas.
By the time I was 15, my breasts were a 40F. In a school full of hormonal schoolboys, I couldn't hide.
'Urgh,' one girl in the playground sneered. 'Those breasts are gross.'
It was the final straw.
'Please can I have a breast reduction?' I begged Mum.
Mum shook her head. 'You should be happy with what nature's given you,' she said.
Happy? Was she kidding? Then, when I was 15, I started seeing my first boyfriend, Tim.
He was wonderful, but when I finally felt ready for sex…
'You can touch,' I told him. 'But you can't look.'
It was the same when I got together with my boys' dad, Geoff, when I was 18. Even now, six years on and two kids later, I'd never let him see my boobs without a bra. Thankfully, just like his brother, little Tom grew strong despite not being breastfed. And a year on,
we were thriving. Which is more than could be said for me and Geoff, then 27. So, when Tom was 1, we split. Now, suddenly, I was a single mum. And with two boys to support, I had more important things to think about than my bulging boobs. By now, my breasts had grown to a staggering 46L. But what else could I do, except strap them down and get on with my life?
Somehow, though, despite my best efforts to ignore them, it always came back to my boobs.
Whenever I went on dates, men just wanted to spend the whole night talking to my chest.
'I'm through with men,' I moaned to my mate, Patty, 31, one night.
'I know,' she said. 'Why don't we cheer ourselves up by going to the Big Beautiful Women bash in Las Vegas this year?'
Big Beautiful Women (BBW) was an event where larger ladies could let their hair down.
'All right,' I agreed. My customer services job for a parcel company would pay for the flights, and Geoff could look after the boys.
So, in July 2005, we flew off to Las Vegas. Surrounded by big women, I didn't feel so self-conscious. We were having a great time when I felt someone tap my shoulder.
'Hi, I'm Zik Ukaeje, the publisher of Bodacious magazine,' a man said, handing me a copy. 'It specialises in big sexy women.'
He wasn't kidding. There were countless saucy pictures of big, busty women. Some of them were in sexy lingerie, others were naked, but it was all very tasteful. Zik came straight to the point.
'You'd be fantastic for the magazine,' he said.
'You've got to be kidding,' I spluttered, crossing my arms over my chest. 'I'm a 31-year-old mum of two.'
But Zik wasn't put off.
'Here's my card,' he said.
Back home, I couldn't stop thinking about what Zik had said.I'd always thought my breasts were hideous, but the women in Bodacious had pretty big boobs and they looked fantastic.
Maybe I could pose for it ? The boys were at their dad's and, before I bottled out, I grabbed my camera and stripped down to my undies. Setting my camera on timer and balancing it on the counter, I quickly struck a pose.
'It'll be awful,' I told myself.
But then, the strangest thing happened. Looking at the photo, I realised I didn't look too bad. In fact, I looked sexy! OK, at first glance, my cleavage looked like a bottom, but who cared?
I was so thrilled at how good I looked that I took some more. But the bravest thing by far was taking a picture of myself topless and emailing all the photos to Zik. Two days later, he called.
'They're fantastic,' he said. 'We'd love you to come to LA for a shoot.'
I couldn't believe it. But I wanted the opinion of two very important people before I did anything else. My boys.
'Go for it, Mum,' John, then 12, and Tom, 8, said. 'It's cool.'
Two weeks later, I was in a studio, having topless photos taken. That was three years ago, and now, as well as a part time job as an estate agent, I'm also a Bodacious regular.
Just as well I have my boobs to fall back on. As you can imagine, being an estate agent isn't exactly a thriving business at the moment, so the modelling is definitely helping. For years, I thought my breasts were absolutely hideous, but now I realise the opposite is true. My boobs are gorgeous.So, you see, that nurse was right. Breast really is best after all!