Raisins in the Sun

Today I noticed that I lost weight, but not in a good way. I lost weight on the one part of my body that I wish would grow: my breasts. I'm a small-chested person and I've learned to overcome my insecurities about it. I don't stuff my bra, chant 'I must increase my bust' 100 times before bed, nor have I ever considered getting a boob job. But that was all before today, when my strapless bra practically slid off of me.


In my family, most of the women are small chested, but I'm the smallest. Somehow I managed to make it through puberty, despite being raised around a cousin with triple-D sized breasts and being the only girl in fifth grade who struggled to fill a training bra. My mother tried to reassure me that I'd grow. She said she was once my size, but her chest eventually grew. Of course, none of that happened until she got pregnant. Since that wasn't in the forseeable future, I had to learn to love my California raisins.

Anyhow, I wore a strapless bra to work, but I had to run to the bathroom to adjust it several times. I would walk for about five minutes, and then I'd feel like the darn thing had fallen to my knees. My colleagues must have thought I had food poisoning or something, because I kept racing to the bathroom. I've worn this bra several times before and nothing like this has happened. What causes shrinking breasts? Is it a sign of weight loss? Or is it a more serious problem? Until I figure out what the deal is, I'm breaking out the contour cream and chanting 'I must increase my bust.' I know I won't leave the Itty Bitty Titty Committee anytime soon. But a girl can dream. *sigh*

(Photo courtesy of www.trekearth.com )