As a pre-teen/teen, I was, to say the very least, physically late blooming. What I had in bizarre mental wisdom and fortitude, I lacked in evidence of pubescence until I was about 16. And I was completely ashamed of it. When I started 6th grade, I came to class to find that many of the girls who had looked just like me the year before had started to really grow up, and all of them were obsessed with breasts and the potential for a first period. It was relentless. It was all they talked about. Everyone wanted to know what bra size everyone else was and whether they had “gotten it” yet. I always tried to hide during these onslaughts of maturation discussion because I was exemplifying nothing and couldn’t relate.
A Post About Bras
A Post About Bras
A Post About Bras
As a pre-teen/teen, I was, to say the very least, physically late blooming. What I had in bizarre mental wisdom and fortitude, I lacked in evidence of pubescence until I was about 16. And I was completely ashamed of it. When I started 6th grade, I came to class to find that many of the girls who had looked just like me the year before had started to really grow up, and all of them were obsessed with breasts and the potential for a first period. It was relentless. It was all they talked about. Everyone wanted to know what bra size everyone else was and whether they had “gotten it” yet. I always tried to hide during these onslaughts of maturation discussion because I was exemplifying nothing and couldn’t relate.