Tits Up!

Today was the first time I faced the world without the breast forms that I’ve tended to believe are the source of my confidence.

Turns out I may have been mistaken. There was no Samson and Delilah moment. My hard bought confidence did not ebb from my chest, slipping away like sand. In fact, nothing was even particularly different.

Except that I was able to. And that’s immense to me. I thought I was several months from this decision. And I kept telling myself I needed the forms. Kind of like when I needed a wig to feel remotely confident about whether I passed or not.

And today? I just don’t care. I am not going to have anyone’s eye out with my meagre mammaries. But fuck it, they’re mine! And they’ll function perfectly well for now.

Truth be told, my stunt boobs were getting pretty tatty after two solid years. Been put back together more times than Evel Knievel. I thank them for their service and commend them to the great brassiere in the sky.

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