Saturday, March 8, 2014

Talking about my Body – Especially my B$%#&#S



Today I’m going to talk a little about my body. So, if you have any young ones within reading distance you better read this someplace private.  And, when you are finished, delete it from your history so no one learns anything before their time.

I was always a bit self-conscious of my body, in particular my breasts.  You see, I’m a bit lop-sided.  I know this is a common thing, and many people are not evenly proportioned, but it seems to be an extreme for me.

If we start at my feet, we note that one foot is slightly larger.   One leg is also a fraction longer than the other.  Yes, again not uncommon, but my body goes beyond this.  If it were just this I could certainly go the rest of my life without a second thought about it. Except maybe, when I’m buying shoes.

We’ll jump past the duo mounds – obviously I can’t call them twins like many women refer to them.  Then again, no one specifies whether they are identical twins or not.  We’ll go straight to my shoulders where one lies slightly lower than the other.

Heading upward a glance in the mirror reveals that my lips are uneven as are my ears.  It is unfortunate, but if I were to ever shave my head people would not be able to avoid noting that one side of my head is larger.  Now this misfortune happened at birth I am certain.  I was born with water on my skull, not to be confused with Hydrocephalus, water on the brain, which can cause much more serious issues.  And since I have it on good psychiatric authority my brain is fine – I have proven this often – my main concern is appearance.

Most of these malformations can be disguised by hair styles or cocking my head to one side. I can easily fill in one side of my lips more fully with lipstick and I’ve had my ears pierced at slightly different locations to help disguise my lop-lopsidedness.

Now for the part I have most difficulty with – those dreaded uneven breasts.  I first really became self-conscious back in the 60s when many women started burning their bras. However before I could strike a match I was warned that not all women should go bra-less and there was a test to determine if one should.  It was the pencil test.

Yes, the pencil test is simple.  Put a pencil beneath the naked breast, stand up straight, and if it stays you should not go braless.  AhHa, my left side was the lucky one – or, unlucky depending on how you looked at it.  It was small enough that I could go bra less.

However, it was my right side that left me curious as to what I should do. When placed beneath my right breast the pencil stayed put. I could jump up and down and the thing remained as though held by Velcro – had Velcro been invented at that time.

After that, I became self-conscious of my disproportionate breasts.  I’d stuff tissues in to make Lefty look larger or I’d tighten the shoulder strap significantly tighter on Righty so they both looked even. They might have passed for twins. 

While I’d hoped Lefty would eventually catch up with Righty, it was never to be.  If anything as I grew older and a bit larger the difference became more significant.  It was made worse after a couple of lumps had to be removed from Lefty.  Why, oh, why not Righty, I always wondered.  Was it some kind of cruel joke?

Now that I’m older I see more humor in the difference.  How interesting would we be if we were all alike? I suppose that is true for breasts. I have even given my pair names: Lefty is now Mary, and Righty is Martha.

You may not get this if you aren’t into the Bible, so I will explain.  Mary and Martha were sisters who were very different.  While Mary would lounge at the feet of Jesus, listening carefully to His every word, Martha would be busy hustling and bustling to make Him a meal. I picture them as Mary being this little bit of a thing and Martha a more robust woman.

So, they are my Mary and Martha.  Every once in a while I drop them a littletid bit of something to eat.  Martha is happy not to have to cook it herself, while Mary is just content to sit around and listen to the conversation.

Maybe it’s not so bad that they are different.

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