Body dysmorphic disorder is a serious affliction wherein a person is obsessed with some perceived flaw in their body. The most difficult part to understand is that the flaw someone is consumed with might not even be visible to anyone else. It might not even be real.
I have the opposite of that. I am not under the false impression that I am runway thin or bodybuilder strong or movie star pretty but I pretty much stopped really looking very hard in the mirror without my clothes on when I was about 24. By that point I had a pretty good idea what I looked like, I had a long-term boyfriend that I’d eventually marry and I had already been “the naked girl” in a play in college once, it was unlikely to happen again. So, I just stopped obsessing over my body. So I stopped really looking,
And then I had a baby and I was all “Holy fuck, what happened to me?” and then I got over that. And I had another baby and aside from that one day that I took a long look at the road map that is my stomach I really haven’t done much looking since. I stare at myself in the mirror at the gym just as much as the next person but since the invention of the wide-band yoga/running pant it’s not so bad a sight. And really when you’re dumping sweat and lifting weights it’s hard to be too hard on yourself.
Where was I? That’s right, I have the opposite of body dysmorphia. Instead of believing that there is something horribly wrong with my physical appearance I have this notion that I pretty much look like I did when I was about 23. Most of the time this serves me well. I am confident. I am sassy. I am not bogged down with worrying about my aging body. But then these horrifying moments of reality happen. I accidentally catch a peek at the back of my thigh and think “holy shit, when did that start to look like THAT?” Or I chat up a kid in line at the grocery store and he looks right through me and I remember that I am not a spring chicken as I catch a look at myself all decked out mom-style.
Ordinarily, I let these moments roll off me and I settle back into being blissfully unaware of aging.
I was at the gym the other day feeling strong. Busted out a two minute plank and dropped to the mat. I grabbed my phone and my water and I leaned back and looked back down to the mat and GASPED. My tits were inches, almost half a foot, lower than my elbows. IN A SPORTS BRA. I almost ran to the weight room where I could get a better look in a mirror because HOLY HELL I know I have been pregnant twice and breastfeeding for eleventy billion years but come the fuck on when did this happen???
But I couldn’t move. For one thing I was afraid I might trip over my knockers. It was dangerous to run. Things were sliding south and fast.
I took a deep breath. And I began to laugh. Look closely at the picture and you can see a second set of handprints. Look at the bottom of that picture. My knees. AHA! The wet marks were my knees!! I had pulled them up to the mat as I sat back to catch my breath.
And I got hysterical. That kind of belly laugh, I might pee my pants, holy shit do you guys see what I see laughter that you have to share. I looked around and there was not a single woman in sight. Now I wasn’t picky. I was ready to shout out “Oh my god, I thought those were boob sweat marks and it is only my KNEES! Hallelujah, it’s just my knees!!!” to anyone that looked even remotely female. Not a one. Somehow I didn’t think that the fellas that work out with me daily were going to be impressed. Or understand why this was such a reason to rejoice.
So, I snapped a picture and I strutted, yeah, strutted, my fine ass right out of the gym. Because my boobs are nowhere near that low. In a sports bra. So there.
Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.
Excitement on the side 
Finally weaned my last “baby”, and realized I’ve been nursing for 13 years straight (13 years!). They still haven’t quit making milk yet… and I am not looking forward to the final result.
Exercise is great for our self-imagine, as long as we don’t look too long in those damn mirrors. Of course it only takes one dressing room trip to destroy my carefully constructed self delusion.
Speaking for all of the guys here, it’s criminal to discuss boobs without accompanying pictures and diagrams. Duh.
THIS is what brings you out of hiding? :) nice to “see” you, stranger.
Oh, I’m here a lot, hanging out and living vicariously through your blog and others. I’m just not posting much, well nothing really. Not at the moment. But I’m feeling an itch that can only be scratched by writing, so will no doubt be blabbing away again soon enough.
Blab on, friend!!
Oh my god this is funny. So funny!
I have a similar attitude about my body as you, though now that I’m into hot yoga I really notice my body more (which has surprisingly given me MORE confidence!).
Usually I see my body as a very practical tool for carrying my mind around.
who doesnt like a confident long boobed woman?
This is so fantastic. I am in tears, in fact I want to retitle my blog. You will, of course, get full credit. :)
re title it to what?
I should lose the subtitle “you wouldn’t want to put your money where my mouth’s been” to “who doesn’t love a confident long boobed woman?”
yeah thats more like it :D
You get a gold star, sir.
Gold bra would be more appropriate lol
Welcome to Maxine’s grrrlfriend! After a boob reduction and tummy hike (tuck’s are for sissy’s), they have given in to gravity. Not the Wicked Defying Gravity.
HA! xo
Lol!! This was so great! I kept looking at the photo before I finished reading just absolutely convinced those weren’t your boobs. I was right. Not that I know anything about your boobs…ermm….you know what I mean. ;-)
Puhleazze, it’s you that keeps clicking on every boob pic I have ever posted, right?
Darn it. Yep. You caught me. :-)
BAH HA!! I have the same reverse dysmorphia. I’ve been working out pretty hardcore for the last 6 months and did a workout video at home for the first time in years yesterday. Since I was at home, I wore just a sports bra on top, which allowed me a much more.. ahem.. honest view of my stomach then I have seen in a loooong time. Especially jarring while watching the women modeling the moves on the video. Apparently a “front butt” is not standard?!? AND, I have one!! Who knew?
OH man… front butt is so fucking funny. I mean, not funny, but funny. And I have had this expeience, the working out with just a sports bra and thinking “whoa…. WHOA.”
The only time I ever get bummed out is when I stand in front of the mirror and push my boobs up to where I think they used to be, then let them settle back to where they are. Damn.
Yeah, I don’t wanna do that. Damn is right. :)
Get that off your chest? I see what you did there. ;)
I couldn’t help myself!! :)
I LOVE your honesty! I don’t have kids, and my breasts are still a wreck. I have a fairly large chest, and spent many years running and jumping in various sports. I’ve basically stretched my nipples away from my body at every avenue, and now that I’m getting older, elasticity is not on my side.
Confidence is sexier than perky breasts.
All that running and jumping, dammit! And you’re right, confidence goes a long, long way. Thank you, Jen, honesty is all I really bring to the table. Well, honesty and no shame. At all.
My right one has an inferiority complex because the left one is bigger. Every night, I tell it it’s just as pretty, and just as boobylicious.
You are kind to look after it like that. ;)
Dying. Us long boobied gals gotta stick together!
In fact, we could tie ourselves together! :)
BWAHHHH I love your posts Kelly!!! I personally would have been shocked my boobs were big enough to reach the mat!
Oh, these puppies can nurse a kid sitting in a car seat next to me and I don’t even have to unbuckle my seatbelt. I like to think of them as big, but I suppose they are actually long. HAHA. That’s hot, huh? You see that chick with the long boobs? Meeeeooooow.
Oh mine are long and skinny lol after nursing 4 kids. I always joke with my hubby that I don’t really want a boob job I just want them re inflated!