Redefining sexy through breast reduction

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Open publication - Free publishing

Why I hate my boobs

I have big breasts.
But that's really stating the obvious.
Yes, they're real. No, you can't touch them. But ask me again once I'm drunk and I know you a little better. It's none of your business how they factor into my sex life. No, you can't see them, perfect stranger. My eyes are up here.
I don't know what I hate more - the constant attention from dudes, or the jealousy from the ladies.
Guys, I can deal with. They're singular-minded for the most part and who doesn't like a little male attention? Guys don't comment on my boobs (unless fuelled by alcohol). I realize if I wear something cleavage-barring in front of drunk men, I will get looks and comments.
It's the girls I can't stand.
When I was in Grade 7 this group of "mean girls" started a rumour that I had implants. (And I remember thinking, 'I'm 12! What reasonable doctor, in their right mind, would allow a 12-year-old to get a breast augmentation!')