Adolescence · Life as I Know It

Funny Story

Whether or not I have mentioned this in the past, I find it so funny I feel like mentioning it again.

Within my closest circles, people know I have boobs. It was a frequent topic of conversations with the women my age at my old job. Seriously, we’d be talking in a circle at night, having nothing better to do, and somehow my boobs were brought into the conversation. At the time, I was a 36C (I have no shame, I have boobs), and it made me slightly uncomfortable. I wondered why my boobs had suddenly become a topic of conversation after over eighteen months on the job. I wonder if it had something to do with Adam, who had this massive crush on me. And I was impressive at keeping them under control, which is no easy feat, for anyone out there with above average sized breasts. It’s not like I was going to tape them down for every work shift, just because the smaller girls felt insignificant.

And now that I am a 34DD (yeah, they’ve increased in the last four years–and I have lost weight), I can only imagine what they’d say now.

Back in high school, I was shy. I wasn’t noticed by the male population of my school, until I moved 3,000 miles to the East Coast. I was the new kid, the enigma from California. I pretty much liken it to (pardon the oncoming reference) how Bella Swan felt those first few days at Forks High School in Twilight. No, no one was snapping random photos of me for the yearbook or anything, but anyone who was interested asked me a lot of questions. And with certain members of the male sex, I was a novelty. I wasn’t impressed by their vehicles, or their town, or the educators in the school. I was just this quiet girl who sat quietly in the corner minding her own business. And when you’re from a city in California, guys find that attractive, I guess. I got a lot of male attention, both appreciated and unwanted.

In my history class we were watching a video on something, the topic is lost on me now. Classrooms get hot, it’s a fact of life, especially in a school without air-conditioning. I was wearing my trusty oversized CSULB (Cal State Long Beach) sweatshirt, and decided to take it off. I had become stuck in my sweatshirt. I might have been adjusting my shirt underneath, so I didn’t give a peep show, or I was genuinely stuck, I don’t know. All I know is that when I finally got out of the sweatshirt, this girl seated directly next to me was in utter hysterics. She was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe, and she had the whole class laughing, and she couldn’t say why.

And when the truth was finally revealed to me months later, I could see her point.

As I previously stated, guys probably weren’t just into me because I was pretty/Californian/smart–whatever. I had boobs, they were pretty much staring at any guy that walked by. This is something that when you’re a teenager you’re self-conscious about (at least I was), and I never wore anything that would have drawn attention to my boobs. As it happens, when I was stuck in my sweatshirt all those months ago, this guy Leo (not his real name) was staring with eyes wide open, mouth hanging open like those wolves you see in cartoons. Katie took one look at his expression and started laughing. When the girls from my history class who were also in Math with me told me this, I was mortified. I couldn’t look at Leo in the face in the halls for the rest of the school year.

I dropped out of school at the end of Junior year (and I immediately received my GED, so don’t judge me), and that was the end of everything with my former classmates. A few years ago, I was walking down Main Street with my mom, and I saw Leo on the corner walking on the opposite side of the street. I began cackling when I remembered the story. And this happened every time I saw Leo in town. I would start quietly laughing, and feel bad for him.

After high school, I had changed a lot. For about two years, I was overweight. Not a large amount, about fifteen pounds. And when I finally saw Leo, I had lost all the weight. I had started taking care of myself, wearing good clothes, and makeup. I would be unrecognizable to him.

But I still look back on that moment not with the mortification I had when I was seventeen, but with laughter.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s