Don't be mistaken - this isn't a "body positivity" post. That's not something I ever feel particularly passionate about writing.
I hope that doesn't make me sound like an awful person. Of course, I want everyone to feel genuinely happy with their body but I sometimes feel the endless barage of OMG LOVE YOURSELF GALS EVERYONE IS BEAUTIFUL is a bit much. Often to the point of making people feel uncomfortable if they don't like themselves, like they're even doing that wrong. It's okay not to love yourself sometimes. None of us are perfect and it is perfectly okay to not like your imperfections.
But I digress. Kind of.
This post is more a reflection of a body part that I used to seriously dislike but now have zero issue with... And actually think are kind of banging. (Boobs, FYI).
Did I have surgery? Nope - but I wanted to for several years.
Did I just decide to get on with life and stop moping over my ugly funbags? Not really.
Did they one morning morph into a pair of perky, round, fit-for-page-3 hunnies? Not in the slightest.
Same tits, just a different day. Isn't it funny how situation can completely change how you feel about your body? Maybe I am just older and now don't care as much, but I don't think that's the case to be honest. Because the exact same happened with my HUGE, dark, thick eyebrows that used to be Charlie-from-Busted but are now all Keira Knightly and Queen Cara.
I used to be conscious of how small they were. Boobs not eyebrows - let's get back on track.
Epecially cos my younger sister developed serious curves and giant boobs and I was just waiting to catch up. (10 years later and still waiting....) A few of my best friends had impressive racks on them, too. And such was my life. Surgery had always been at the back of my mind as something I told myself "don't worry - you'll save and have surgery one day, it wont always be like this".
Then came one of the late-teenage-years boyfriends. Let's call him dickbag-Dan (or DD, just for the #irony) 'Cause he's a monumental dickbag. DD offered, on several occasions, to pay for a boob job for my sad little gals. At the time OMG HOW ROMANTIC IS HE???? But it just chipped away at my self esteem and made me hate them even more. Like, if he's mentioning it I obviously need surgery, right?
Then he cheated on me and that was that. I met Martin 3 weeks later. Now, if you've read this post about why Martin is the best you may think he is all lovey-dovey and full of compliments? HA NO. He is extremely offensive at any given opportunity and, as a general rule, getting a compliment out of him is like getting blood out of a stone. But somehow, since being with him I like my boobs now. For the first time ever.
It's not that he worships and praises them. 'Cause he doesn't. I still think they could be a bit bigger and my nips could be a bit cooler. I duno, like if they shot glitter or did my ironing or something? Pshh who wants boring old nipples? My general self esteem hasn't particularly increased, either. I thought I was a badass bitch back then and I'm still a badass bitch.
But now with a hella fit pair of boobs.
So the moral of the story - if you don't like something (still hate my nose more than you will ever understand), that's okay. Don't let it get you down tooooo much. You never know - in 10 years time it might become your favourite body part. You just don't know what's going to change in the world. Cellulite will be in vogue, Gigi Hadid and Kylie Jenner will be rushing out to get hair implants on their arms and there'll be some ridiculous YouTube challenge where kids will be breaking their noses to get a cool wonky shape.
Hang on in there honey. xxx