Happy New Year! It’s been agony being away from this blog for the past month and a half.
But now my blog has a shiny new home so it was totally worth it!
There have been many exciting changes in my life since we last connected. But today I want to talk about one that shocked me…
My boobs have grown. A lot.
For the past 18 years my breast have been neatly tucked away in two B cups. This has basically been my breast identity for most of my life and I was completely fine with it.
But a recent trip to Victoria’s Secret changed everything…
But before I get into that, I want to talk about another trip to Victoria’s Secret. This one didn’t go so well…
It was the weekend after Valentine’s Day, two years ago and the air was so frigid my body recoiled as soon as I stepped outside. Still my partner (now fiance) and I had a day of sexy fun planned. Or so we thought.
First was brunch, then a trip to Victoria’s Secret to use the gift card he just gifted me for V-Day and then off to see Fifty Shades of Grey. Don’t judge. Too late, I’m sure you already did.
But as soon as I stepped my frozen toes into the pink palace filled with overpriced panties and bras with enough padding they could be used as a booster seat, I felt out of place. I felt pressured.
Because my partner gave me this gift card, suddenly I felt a pile of sexpectations tumbling down upon my head…
Did I need to be more sexy?
Would buying some lingerie improve our sex life?
Is this what I was expected to be?
The fact was that although my partner and I had (and still have) an amazing relationship filled with love, affection, communication, fun and so much consciousness, we were only having sex a few times a month.
And as much as I told myself that the quality (which was rather good) was way more important than the quantity, it still got to me.
And this all came to a head as I stood in the dressing room surrounded by padded bras, thonged underwear and enough lace to put a Victorian novel to shame.
I started to freak out. Then I shut down. Then I left the store.
But it didn’t end there. What followed was the second most intense fight Nick and I have ever had. And we don’t have many. I will spare you the details but there was yelling and car door slamming and crying.
This was followed by a swift trip to Old Navy where I purchased a pair of sweat pants I’ve been wanting for months.
Basically I was giving a big middle finger to Victoria’s Secret and the idea that if I became that type of woman, a woman I used to be in my twenties mind you, that my sex life would suddenly get hot and steamy.
After much processing and conversation Nick and I connected to the source of the issue for both of us and I used that gift card to purchase a black and white polka dot bikini online instead.
Fast forward two years and another unexpected Victoria’s Secret Gift card. This time from my mother.
Totally different story. Unrecognizable really.
This time I tried on the sexiest discount panties I’ve ever seen, a bad-ass muscle tee and a see-through black leotard that was more naughty than nice.
This time I shopped by myself instead of trying to get Nick to tell me what I should buy.
This time I sent him pics of some of the outfits and it was fun and hot and playful- something I have NEVER done before.
This time I even connected with a mother who was freaking out at the fact that her 13 year-old daughter needed a double D bra.
And yes, when I requested a measurement I too found out my bra size was much different than I thought. I’m a 32 D. My cups are definitely runnething over. And over.
Not that I purchased any bras that day. The ones you see in the pic about are 34 Cs and all Christmas gifts from my mother.
Side note: I do think V-Sercret has a “secret” bra sizing conspiracy to make women think their breasts are bigger than they are. Regardless, mine still grew.
But I digress.
So why did I have such a different experience?
This time it was on MY terms. There were no expectations. But also in the past six months, my sex life has exploded.
I am so much more in my sexual power. In fact I’m in the middle of a God-damn sexual revolution.
Now I take control of my orgasms and have several. All the time. Now instead of being silly and jokey around my sexiness I can stand in my unabashed sexual power and slay the shit out of it.
And it feels amazing. So amazing that I want to shout it from the rooftops, which is the equivalent of sharing it on this blog.
Often times women are taught to tone down their sexiness. To let their partner do all the work. To stand their or sit their or lie there and be pretty.
And while I never fully succumbed to that bullshit, there was a piece of me that was afraid to be sexy again. Because in the past it was connected to insecurity and needing validation from men.
But also because my sexiness and sex was rejected for so long.
But now, it’s all for me. And it feels so good.
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