Body Issues: Breasts, Weight, and Dance Class

The guy on myspace wanted to know what size bra I wear. I have to laugh, that's the first thing guys ask. In fact, I'm so accustomed to that question I stopped thinking it was rude years ago. Now, it's just like they're asking how old I am. I answer this question due to some strange exhibitionist trait I have had since I was a teenager. As you can tell by the fact that I write my diary entries online for anybody to see---I am totally an exhibitionist.

So I responded to the guy via myspace messaging. 36FF. In UK sizes. That translates to 36H in US sizes. I always answer in UK sizes because all my bras are imports from the United Kingdom, where large breasts are everywhere and stores actually make bras for the large-breasted population. It's not like here in California where Target goes up to 36DD only. There are some big bras, but they're for big band sizes, like 40 or 42 band widths. Maybe you don't know this, but the larger the circumference of the torso below the breasts, the smaller the cup size will be listed as. So a 36DDD is only a 38DD. Larger band, smaller cup. Smaller band, larger cup. Bra mathematics can be confusing.

I ran into problems in my dance class last week with my body. I am enrolled in a general education level dance class which I must pass in order to obtain my B.A. this May. I am a senior in college, 28 years old, 163 pounds (at the moment), and about 5 feet 2 inches. So I'm fat. Overweight, chunky, thick, whatever. The students are mostly underweight and still in their teenage years. I have never felt so out of place in my life---not even when I accidentally attended a faculty-only potluck last semester (only to be rudely told to get out! I was invited via email from another faculty member, but I left regardless! I almost cried, I was so humiliated!)

They are so tiny, so flat-chested, so, well dancer-like, that I wanted to run out of the dance studio in tears. We stretched, then danced. The professor, a waif-like blonde trained in modern dance, told us to do a little prance across the studio, then crouch, lunge, and twirl around. All the girls did this and they looked like professional dancers. I wound up being last in line and I was super conscious of my large breasts jiggling all over the place with every prancing step I took. I did not make this look graceful at all! It looked vulgar. I sighed, kept my eyes down, pranced, crouched, lunged, twirled, and ran to the end of the line to hide.

In certain situations my body type (heavy on top, thick thighs, big butt) gets me noticed by men. In other situations, it makes me feel like the circus freak fat woman. Dance class is making me consider a more rigorous diet.

The only good thing that came out of the class (besides the fact that I can graduate when it's over) is that there is a cute, adorable freshman who smiles at me. He's one of only 2 or 3 guys in the class. We partnered up at one point, standing back to back, and melted in a heap together on the floor. It was strictly the class work assigned by the professor, this partner work, but I felt on top of the world as we slid into each other's arms! I can't possibly imagine him picking me over the slender, model-like dance students, but it was still nice to be curled up with him on the floor. :)