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Confessions Of A Busty Bride

Confessions Of A Busty Bride

Puberty is part and parcel of life. So were the nicknames I lived by.

As my chest developed, I was given nicknames that plainly explained my bust size. How… creative? On an irrelevant note, I name my boobs too: boob 1 and boob 2. I, too, can be very creative.

My female friends and acquiantances always ask me these same few questions:

“You are so lucky to a full chest! I want also don’t have”

“Why don’t you flaunt your assets? Show abit of cleavage la!”

“Dua neh bu, your olang (orange) want to come out liao!”

The most commonly asked question:

“wah your breasts take from where? Father or mother (father’s or mother’s side)?”

It would have been very interesting if I took it from my father.

Any other questions/statements were essentially the same, just phrased differently. But I had to be very cautious with the way I answered them. My responses may potentially injure their self-esteem and make them feel worse about their lack of boobs. In other words, I have boobs and I need to thread on wafer thin ice. Life is such.

On the other hand, my male friends and acquiantances are quieter. But that’s only because they are too preoccupied with my massiveness. Sometimes they earnestly ask how I am even able to walk, with my two heavy weights. And I am like …what has the movement of my limbs got to do with my boobs? It would a lot more logical to ask about my SPINE’s ability to support my large fatballs.

Unfortunately men are simple-minded creatures. My groom-to-be might be one of them. But I still love him anyway.

When I was planning for my wedding, my close girlfriends asked me what kind of gown I am searching for. The moment I said I was looking out for something with a high neckline, they gasped in horror.

I thought I touched a nerve.

Turns out they felt that my preferred choice was totally wrong and I should totally reveal my cleavage. Afterall, it is something every girl wants…no?

Truth be told, I always felt self conscious whenever my boobs decide to peek out from my lower cut tops (which incidentally don’t look that low on most people) and greet leering eyes. My boobs would swing precariously if I did any sport, as if they were close to flying out of my chest and perhaps land on a passerby. What a picturesque sight isn’t it?

Also, shopping is usually a drag because most clothes either fit my body but somehow my boobs seem too eager to burst out.

But, there is a silver lining in everything. Because of my full rack, I am able to fit into bralets better than girls with a smaller bust. Furthermore, being well-endowed provides me that curve whenever I am in the mood of looking sexy.

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You can say that I have a love-hate relationship with my boobies!

Feel the same way? Leave a comment and share your woes!

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