I saw “Small Boobs Big Dreams” written somewhere on the interwebs recently and it stuck with me. I swear to god that I used to have big boobs; like full C big boobs. Where do boobs go to die? I wish someone would tell me. Although I sometimes miss my big boobs, there are also some major perks to “not having a whole lot going on up there” as my husband calls it. No bra? No problem. Running in a light-support sports bra? Sure!
But in that same breath, there is so much pressure in the fitness industry, (also just like, ya know, life in general), to look a certain “way”. You know the “way” I’m talking about? Super fit, big boobs, big muscles, etc. The list goes on and on which can make it easy to get lost in our warped ideals. So much so that despite my very careful selection of what foods I eat, what products I use on my body, and what products I bring into my home, the thought of a boob job was slowly filling my head. I knew that it would be a complete contradiction to my lifestyle and everything that I believe in, but somehow it still seemed tempting.
So obviously I had to share my idea...and it went over about as well as expected. My mom told me she wouldn’t love me anymore (Hi Mom), my sister was completely shocked and mortified that I would even consider something so drastic, and my dear friend who is normally very open-minded had an extremely strong, negative opinion on the whole idea and what it said about societal pressures.
The idea of a boob job sounds good, the reality of one is a whole other story. I'm not sure that I would ever fully feel like myself knowing that I had a foreign object INSIDE OF MY BODY (see how crazy that sounds). So after a little soul-searching and lots of research, I decided that clearly it wasn't for me. Not to say that I don’t think it looks incredible on some people, because I absolutely do. But for my body, it’s just not the right choice.
I have ten fingers, ten toes, a healthy, fully functioning body and there is truly no greater gift than that. It's so easy to get consumed in what looks good and forget what feels good. The fact that I can sprint, lift weights, do yoga, fucking WALK every day is a miracle...and sometimes I lose sight of that. That gratitude, gratitude, graaa-tiii-tuuude will always shine a light on the path you are meant to walk. I guess boobs and me just weren't meant to be.