Diminishing Returns

Six months ago I had my first conversation ever with a man who spent the entire time staring at my tits. Most of my life I've been a small-breasted woman and somewhat of a tom-boy so the experience was a landmark. I have to admit, I kinda liked it.

Of course then I was about 60 pounds heavier and had some tremendous tits. I was wearing tighter shirts and spent a good bit of my days staring down at them. I now understand why men in the movies always make the joke that if they had boobs they'd just play with them all day long. At times I was very tempted.

Well, those days are gone. Over the last six months I've gone down four bra sizes and one cup size. Disheartening to be sure. I've also gone down five clothing sizes. I look good, I feel great. All is well with the world. However, the transition has not been without its difficulties.

Since I've been losing weight steadily, I've been hesitant to buy clothing until things stabilize. So, I have a lot of pants that are a size or two (or three) too big. They are very comfy. Like wearing pajamas to work every day. However, I can never tell if my zipper is up or down because my pants are so baggy. I've developed OCD in that I check my zipper constantly.

I've always been vehemently opposed to belly shirts but now I find myself wanting one. I'm uncomfortable with that.

On the upside, I've been able to squeeze into the car when my husband parks it too close to the garage wall (which he does daily). This used to be a real problem for me. I had a little scare this morning when it seemed a little tight. Then I realized he's just probably trying to inspire me to reach my Weight Watchers goal, which is why he parked about 6 inches from the wall last night. I think he figures the closer he parks, the more I'll lose (which is odd because he's particularly fond of breasts).