This is a surprise that I’ve been dying to tell you about all week. When Mia sent me photos of her Bettie Paige find two weeks ago, I had a lightbulb moment in which I realized that Hourglassy needed her. From past email exchanges, I knew that Mia was an excellent writer. Plus, she’s the contest winner who came up with the Hourglassy tagline two years ago. But it took Mia’s photos for me to recognize that all of Hourglassy‘s regular writers have been white, and therefore that a large population of large-busted readers rarely see their complexion reflected in our photos. Also, because Mia is a mother who wears a size 32J, I knew that she could help us relate to the full-busted experiences of even more women. You can imagine how thrilled I was when Mia said that she’d be thrilled to be a part of Hourglassy. After you read her first post below, I know you’re going to be thrilled, too.
As a mother, you’d think I’d be ashamed to admit that until I saw this photograph, I had no idea that my daughter was copying me. Actually, this is one of my proudest mommy moments to date.
At 16 I was already a Victoria’s Secret size 34DD (as we now know I was probably a 30F) and a size 4/6 bottom. I hated my breasts! I’m black, I wanted a butt! What made me the most insecure about my body was trying on clothes. I didn’t want boys to stare at my large boobs and asslessness, but I had very few options! My mother, after nixing my baggy, b-girl gear, convinced me to wear clothes that “fit” my body. You know what though? Your mother is not your peers. Who knew? Being taunted for my big breasts happened in my baggy clothes, but I upgraded to ogling from boys and eye-rolls from girls with my fitted clothes. My mom tried to convince me that they were just insecure or jealous, but all I felt was shame.
At 18 I finally decided that I would embrace my breasts. It’s a whole hell of a lot easier to embrace huge boobs when you are young with a tiny body. I just threw on something form-fitting and stepped out the door, confidence high. I blinked, and that time had passed.
Problem. The boobs kept growing. Small body, big boobs. Medium body ginormous boobs…ginormous plus boobs….
Over the years my breasts have grown and my confidence has shrunk. Once I became a mother my clothing options went from few to next to nothing, and I couldn’t just throw on something stretchy because I was dressing for work. I began to hate clothes shopping, berating the reflection in the mirror, hating the woman whose zipper never could quite get past her bra strap.
It took one shopping trip with my little girl to open my eyes. My daughter was 2 and in a dressing room with me, watching as I tried on one unsuccessful garment after another. I was getting frustrated and angry and self conscious and hating my body and sweating and then I saw in the same mirror that held my reflection, the reflection of my baby girl. She looked sad. She tugged at her beautiful dress on her perfect frame and then she hugged me.
I am currently a 32J and a 10/12 bottom. I am walking (and running) with my head up and better posture. I take my little girl into the dressing room with me when I try on clothes, and now we try to laugh and get silly when zippers don’t zip or buttons start “yelling”. When we like something we do a happy dance and pose.
My daughter is a reflection of me. She will be proud of her body because she helped make me proud of mine. Chin up, honest smile, bright eyes and best breast forward.