The Day We Saw No Breast

I remember the cold white tiles of the bathroom floor below my feet. My arms held my robe closed tight. I stared at my feet and recall being grateful for my toes, all ten. I stared at my hands and my fingers as they somehow fell folded, closed perfectly. I realized I was praying. I […]

It’s Not About the Boobs!

It always seems to be about the boobs, headlights, breasts, tata’s, knockers, watermelons, cupcakes, t*t’s, whatever you want to call them. I remember mine never being perfect, well at least in my eyes. I spent a good portion of my teens wishing them different. After children, forget it. Imagine 2 latex balloons, at first they […]