Martinis and Minivans is a blog for anyone who has ever needed a martini after driving a minivan around all day. Or for anyone who has just ever needed a martini. It’s the insanity of a New Yorker now living the Midwest life as a somewhat sarcastic writer, mother and wife.
A Letter to My Breasts
I was recently trying on the ever-popular Maxi dress at a department store last week. While in the dressing room, I realized that the same problem kept occurring with each dress I put on. My breasts popped out of them. I realize that there are women that might be looking for that type of dress and embrace the size C/D cups I have been given in life, but I am not one of them. Too many conversations with men not looking into my eyes have made me long for constant cover-ups. However, I don’t want to have to wear a cami with every dress I purchase. With that in mind, I have written a request letter to my breasts.
I know that you are probably feeling a bit depressed these days. We have been together for decades and early on, you felt happy and perky every day. You would stay upright when gravity was pushing you down. And you would easily let me wear spaghetti straps without them digging into my shoulders. However, I feel as if I betrayed you when my children were born. I asked you to fill with milk and then to harden and that must have made you sad because you started to droop and hang down lower each day. Now, you seem to be in the anger stage in our relationship. You won’t let me wear button down shirts now because there is too much of a gap between buttons. And those spaghetti straps that I used to love now cause horrible indentations in my skin that actually give me shoulder fat marks. But it isn’t all bad. You do provide am ample shelf for me to put my drink on while sitting on the couch, and my children seem to enjoy the two built in pillows available to them at any moment. However, I am begging you – please cheer up. Think about our good old days together and how happy you were to fit into a bra without grandma-wide straps. I know you can be those breasts again. I believe in you.
Your hopeful body
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