My nipples hung round my waist!
Allison's boobs hung at her waist.
Thursday 23rd October 2008
What did you think when you saw my picture? That poor woman, or, What a freak! Either way, I wouldn't blame you. There isn't anything you can say about my boobs that I haven't thought myself. And now, standing naked in front of the mirror, my 38JJ boobs hanging down like empty sacks, satsuma-sized nipples swinging about at my waist, tears sprung to my eyes.
'Ugly, ugly, ugly!' I raged at my reflection.
My boobs were so enormous, they ruled my life. From the moment I woke up, when I scooped them up in my arms and hoisted them out of bed, everything I did was controlled by my boobs. They weren't saggy. It was the sheer weight of them that made them hang so low. They had done since I was 16. Believe it or not, I'd been flat as a pancake until then. Then they'd ballooned.
'They're not normal,' I'd wailed to my mum, Judy Matthews, 65. 'I want a breast reduction.'
She didn't have big boobs, but she'd understood.
'Let's get you to the doctor then,' she'd agreed.
But the doctor's visit had been a disaster.
'You just need to lose weight,' he'd shrugged.
Couldn't he see? Underneath those mounds of flesh, I was only a size 12. But, too ashamed to argue, I'd slunk away, devastated. A private operation would cost £10,000. I couldn't afford that. So, I'd had no choice but to live with them.
But I couldn't even walk down the street without someone pointing and laughing. With my self-esteem at an all-time low, I didn't see any point in looking after myself and I let the weight pile on. By the time I met Daren Mitchell, 32, a friend of a friend, in June 1999, I weighed 17st. I didn't try to hide my boobs from him the first time we made love. How could I?
'I love big boobs,' he grinned, a twinkle in his eye.
We got married at Amberley Castle, West Sussex, on 4 October 2000. But I kept piling on the weight, and four years on, I weighed 24st.
'At least now, my double Js fit the rest of my body!' I joked to Daren.
'More of you to love,' he smiled.
But I wasn't laughing inside. In fact, I could barely stand the sight of myself.
I'd always loved swimming and horse riding, but now, my boobs made balancing impossible, my back ached constantly and being seen in a swimsuit didn't bear thinking about. In despair, I went back to the doctor and, in April 2005, the NHS agreed to fund gastric band surgery at the King Edward VII Hospital in Chichester, West Sussex. Now, it was October 2007, and I'd slimmed down to 15st. You'd think I'd be happy. But while the pounds had dropped off my tummy, that just made my boobs look bigger than ever. I thought about them every minute of every day. It wasn't like I could avoid them. I couldn't even roll over in bed without having to lift them and heave them over to the other side.
That morning, I sighed at my reflection, hoisted my boobs into a heavy-duty bra and pulled
on a tent-like top. My day got worse, at my job as a customer adviser at Worthing Council.
I dropped a bit of paper on the floor, but when I bent down to pick it up, I was so top-heavy, I couldn't right myself.
'Help!' I screamed to my friend, Janet Davies, 39.
Janet rushed over to help.
'What I wouldn't give for a smaller cup size,' I laughed to cover my embarrassment.
But a week on, Janet called me over to her computer, and showed me an internet ad for a telly company that was making a show about embarrassing bodies. They were looking for women who were unhappy with their boobs.
'It says they'll pay for a boob job!' I gasped.
I got typing.
I'm a 38JJ and desperate. Please help me…
That night, I got a reply…
We'd love to meet you.
But first, I had to send over some pictures of myself. Topless. Just the thought made me burn with embarrassment. And if I was accepted onto the show, millions of people would see my boobs. But I'd do anything to be normal. So I buried my shame, as Daren clicked away with our digital camera.
Four days on, I got a phone call.
'We'd love to feature you on the show,' the TV researcher said.
'You're kidding!' I gasped.
Was this it? Was I finally going to get normal boobs after all these years? Three months later, in January this year, I went to The West London Clinic. I stood topless in front of the doctor as he prodded my breasts.
'How does a D-cup sound?' he asked.
'Like heaven,' I grinned.
In April 2008, the camera crew followed me to the operating theatre. Five hours later, I came round. Peering down at the bandages, I burst into tears of relief. The surgeons had removed seven pounds of flesh, the same as seven bags of sugar! A weight had literally been lifted off my shoulders. Ten days on, with my bandages off, I couldn't stop staring at my boobs. They were pert and beautiful. For the first time in my life, I felt like a proper woman.
Chucking out my old hammock-sized bras, I was delirious with happiness. I almost skipped round M&S and, spotting a red, tailored coat, I tried it on. Amazing, I could do up the buttons! And my new confidence has made my marriage even stronger.
'I've never seen you so alive,' Daren grinned the other day.
It's true. I used to feel like a freak. But now, I just feel fabulous!