I first wrote the following letter as a guest blog for a website that is no longer active. I’m going to be resurrecting my Dear Me series. Contact me if you’d like to write a letter to your younger self. Serious or light, most lessons are welcome 🙂 Enjoy!
I’m sorry I took you for granted 20 years ago and didn’t put a plan in place to keep you buoyant, full and happy. You deserved my utmost attention when I was 25, and yet, like so many other relationships in my life, I was young and foolish, thinking you’d always be there for me, high on my chest, proud and pointy regardless of how I treated you or put you on display.
So many times I feigned modesty when someone complimented you and called you “Missile Tits.” I’d coyly dismiss the bounty you offered. “What, these things? They’re just boobs.” If I could take back those words, I would in a heartbeat, because you see, I want you back. There was, is, nothing “just” about you. You are my bosom friends and deserved to be cosseted. I should have let you bask in the glow of your high beams and given you the props you deserved and said, “These are Ladies, not Missile Tits, thank you very much.”
Girls, you’ve always been there for me. When I was a late bloomer, and you surprised me on my 14th birthday as slowly inflating balloons, I was the happiest teenager in Nevada. We were a team, and we looked great together. We were like Thelma & Louise, or Jane Russell & Marilyn Monroe. But now, despite being in the same room 24/7, you don’t bounce when I laugh or get jiggy with it when I dance; you just hang there all blah-like, more interested in fraternizing with Madame Bellybutton. I don’t blame you. You’ve drifted south, and you plan to stay there, retiring closer to the equator just like everyone else. The past is the past, and I know you’ll never be the same or come back, but you deserve to know what I would do if I had the chance to take care of you all over again and how I will treat you going forward.
I’d. Always. Wear. A. Bra.
First and foremost, I’d always wear a bra. All of those outfits that I thought looked better on us when you weren’t cloistered in a bra? So not worth it! Not only did I wear them at your expense, but those fickle outfits were in style one day and gone the next. As I pranced and danced around selfishly, I never considered the energy you spent defying gravity and keeping order. You deserved my support, a corset, a brassiere, but I didn’t give you anything to lean on. You had no cups to runneth over. You were exhausted, and I gave you nowhere to rest. I assumed you’d always float and coast through life, but instead, you’re boulders sinking to the ocean floor, faster and steadier than the rest of the crew. I vow to always provide you boulder-holders from this day forth.
I’d Have You Properly Measured
Secondly, I’d invest my time and money to have you properly measured. For decades I thought you were a 38-C. When I finally followed a tip to have you fitted by a professional bra-fitter on my 40th birthday, you measured in at 34-DDD. You were Cinderella and deserved a glass slipper and a pumpkin coach to carry your melon-like offerings, but instead, I held you back and forced you into the wrong mold and fit for years. Even when I was conscientious enough to protect you with a bra, I failed to give you an adequate foundation. But never again. Now, I march and speak daily on your behalf, touting to all who will listen from 18 years and older, “Please, treat your ladies with respect regardless of their size and give them a place to lay. Your queens have a long journey ahead!”
I’d Bathe You in SPF and Moisturizers
Thirdly, I’d lather you and Ms. Décolletage up with SPF every second you were exposed to the sun, and I’d coat you in moisturizing lotion after every shower and bath. I do both now because I get it. At the time, I had no idea how closely the two of you worked together, but now I appreciate that Ms. Déco was holding and pulling you up as long as she could. Her wrinkles are now like roadways and canyons pointing me in the direction you’ve moved.
Posture and Form Exercises – A Must
I should have done more push-ups and one-arm dumbbell rows. Even though I always geared you up in a sports bra for cardio, I neglected the chest and back muscles that provide structure and alignment, anchoring your ligaments. I know, I know, you don’t have muscles, but doing more chest and back, weight-bearing exercises would have improved my posture and form, and therefore, I wouldn’t have started slouching more and more over the years, exposing you once again to the force of Sir Gravity. I can’t make this up to you, but now I am exercising with your future in mind.
Monthly Breast Exams
I’m going to take a short, but critical break in my diatribe to say one thing I did right with you. I gave you a breast exam once a month. Over thirty years since you appeared, that is 360 self-administered check-ups! Every day I am grateful for my genetics, and I know how lucky I am. According to the *American Cancer Society’s Breast Cancer Facts & Figures 2013-2014, an astonishing 232,340 new cases of female invasive breast cancer will be reported. This number of women whose lives will change humbles me, and I look forward to giving you at least 480 more inspections.
Lined Tank Tops for Bed Time
There is one more thing that I wish I would have done the past three decades but solemnly swear I will do for the rest of our life together. I will always tuck you in properly when we go to bed. You deserved a lined tank top for support while I tossed and turned, squashing and knocking you to and fro. You needed your rest to feel rejuvenated and perky each new day. I can’t turn back the clock, but you’ll have sufficient support around the clock from this day forward.
It’s been a wild 30 years together. I don’t know how much you’ll change over the next few decades, but you’ll have my love and support each step of the way. It is my privilege to grow old with you. Ta-ta for now, Ta Tas.
*American Cancer Society. Breast Cancer Facts & Figures 2013-2014. Atlanta: American Cancer Society, Inc. 2013
This blog first appeared on The Indie Chicks: “being an Indie Chick means being self-empowered, driven, independent, and confident.”
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