I'm a Slave to my Bra: The Busty Girl Chronicles

I'm pretty sure the ladies are intrigued from the title of this blog and well... the guys are thoroughly confused.  So let me explain....

I remember the day I grew boobs. And yes I mean day. It was as if I went to sleep on night and woke up with a B cup. It sounds like fun and games until I mention that I was in the 5th grade. After the first few times I caught pre-pubescent boys staring and practically drooling at the site of my newly developed bust, I began to cover my body with oversized shirts, sweatshirts and jackets. Anything I could do to get the attention off of these things that just decided to appear out of the blue made me feel partially normal. My mom would encourage me to buy minimizer bras to keep my breasts from looking even larger than they were on my small frame. She didn't know it then but hearing that word "minimizer" created an idea in my head that my breasts needed to either be smaller or hidden. Since a breast reduction was off the table due to a young age... hiding them with my new collection of minimizers was the way to go!

One day I visited my cousin Rene, who was also "blessed" with the overnight boob thing that had been passed down to us through genetics. She explained to me how she always slept in a bra especially since she didn't want "the ladies" to suffer the effects of gravity. Seeing as though Rene was like an older sister to me this all made perfect sense. Following that day I was not only worried about hiding these big things but keeping them from ending up on my knees because hey that's what kids think happens once you become "old". That was the beginning. The beginning of me becoming a slave to my bra.

From that point on there was never a night where I slept without it. I'd wake up in a bra. Take a shower. Get back into those cups. Go throughout my day. Go to sleep. Wake up and do the same. (Of course I switched bras during that time.. I hear you wondering about that) There have even been a few times where I've stepped into the shower with my bra on because it felt like it was part of my anatomy. When I started cheerleading in the 7th grade I became the girl who needed TWO bras to have to sense of security and support that I needed. There's nothing like changing in a locker room with girls and having to explain why you need not one but two bras, especially when most of them are still wearing training bras.

One day in high school I walked into Victoria's Secret and as you ladies know, the employee pulled out her measuring tape and informed me that I was now a DD and the feeling of terror immediately followed. Me? DD? Why?!? From that day on if a shirt didn't have a built in bra, I didn't buy it. If a dress required me to go without one, I wasn't wearing it. You just could not convince me that I didn't look like a "saggy boob lady" after removing my support system. I had very few friends who could actually understand my plight. Oh and let's not mention the countless times I've gone swimsuit shopping with friends only to be let down when the store didn't have a XL top to accompany my small bottoms.

Now in my 20's I have decided to rid myself of my fears and free myself from the restraints of my bra.
(Insert dramatic superhero music)
I've accepted that my boobs will be stared at AND they're also a great asset when my friends and I don't feel like waiting in line at the club. My bra has been a security blanket but I've learned that it's absolutely okay to take it off during down time. Sleeping in a bra isn't healthy for many reasons anyway. From time to time "saggy boob lady", whoever she is, pops in my head.. but I've learned that it's nothing a good workout can't handle. In more extreme cases I can always find a surgeon who will nip and tuck these things back to perfection lol. I say all of this to say that we as women have to accept our bodies for what they are. Stop hiding behind everything and flaunt what you've got (tastefully of course... and not for Instagram either). There are women PAYING for what some of us are blessed with naturally. Enjoy your assets.. you may not have them forever.

If you're that young girl who's stuck in your bra just like I was.. please know that it's okay to be where you are. A lot of other girls may not understand but you don't have to hide anything about yourself. Gravity will not be setting in anytime and guys will stare at your boobs no matter what size they are.. they just can't help it lol.

Thanks for reading!
Stay Inspired.
Desarée

Abortion: Is it affecting us more than we know?

I'm not here to state my opinion on abortion. I believe everyone has the right to choose, we only have to answer to God at the end of the day. How I feel does not impact or affect any ones life BUT there is something that I saw that caught me off guard. You may disagree with my thoughts, and that's fine but that's just what they are.. MY thoughts. I will share the image and continue from there....

Now, this billboard was in New York City for all to view. I saw this image today on facebook after a friend of mine posted it. Needless to say I had mixed emotions. At first I read it... blinked twice.. and thought "ok.. what's the big deal? It's TRUE." A few moments passed and then it hit me. All I could murmur is "Wow."

I soon realized that the saying on the billboard is deeper than the statistic of African American women having countless abortions. This billboard made it clear, this is what people think of us. Now when I say people I don't mean the every single person on this earth but more of the picture or stereotype that is perpetuated in this world about African Americans. I  had multiple phrases stemming from this billboard pop into my head: "hyper sexual", "irresponsible", "murderers", etc. I imagined myself walking down the street seeing this in the middle of the busiest city in the country and having these words paint a picture of my people and myself to everyone who encounters it. I am not apart of the statistic, but they do not know that. All they can see is African Americans are killing their unborn children.... and that's it.

I read comments and gathered these thoughts. Although the saying is correct, because the statistics of African American children being aborted is at an all time high, there were other approaches that could have been taken. Information on alternate choices could have been displayed (adoption, pregnancy prevention info, etc.) They could have posted the statistic and found a positive way to encourage women to recognize the severity and strive to decrease the number.

I soon began to wonder... why was this message so important to put out? Does anyone post billboards saying the leading cause of death for any other race or ethnicity? Does anyone report the amount of Caucasian children dying in suburban areas from drug use? Does anyone report the amount of asian, latino, or middle eastern children killing their parents on billboards? No.

I've learned that we live in a country that constantly feeds these negative images of our people. How does one get past that? How do I show them by not saying a word that I am not who they see on the news, on movies or in a demeaning music video? I've never been shot at, nor do I possess any "baby daddies", nor have I been in jail, and my father and mother are still married. Am I better than anyone who has, does, or will do these things? No. But those stereotypes are not my reality. When do we begin to break the cycle? When will we as a people begin to eliminate these negative ideas? When we we get back the the very things our ancestors faught and died for? When will we as a unit want more for ourselves?? When will we begin to fight again?

There are many African-Americans who have contributed GREAT things to this world and many continue to do so today. We have got to continue on that path. There are no perfect people but we can strive for our best. We are much better than we are given credit for. We are a people that have the same blood running through them that was once of kings and queens. I guess this was a great way to end Black History Month. We have to wake up people. All are welcome to comment.