Since I was young, I cannot remember a time when I wanted boobs. I watched all the female actors on TV and figured I would grow up to look like them (I rarely see anyone on television with larger than a C cup). While my friends were buying push-up bras, I was happy to wear sports bras strapped over my flat chest. For most of my adolescence, I was very tall and very, very thin and I assumed I would stay that way into adulthood, but that was definitely not the case. At 14, EVERYTHING changed.

For better or for worse, my ass grew large and round, and so did my boobs. I had been a 34B since 7th grade, but the summer before freshman year I begged my mom to have me fitted for a new bra at Nordstrom. When the scarily old woman came to measure me, she told me I was a 32DD. Technically I was a 30DD, but nobody really makes that size. Appalled, my mom bought me about fifty new bras because she felt so bad I had been wearing a B cup this whole time, with my poor mammaries squishing over the top of my old bra for who knows how long. Today, my boobs have now wandered into the 32G / H territory, and every day I curse my fucking genetics for “blessing” me with what feel like the world’s largest tits. These are just some of the painfully true drawbacks of having giant nunga-nungas.

1. They jiggle when you walk. Stairs? Unexpected running? Forget about it.

2. Giving hugs. It does not matter whom you’re hugging…children, adults, the elderly, animals…it all results in an awkward exchange. If you’re hugging someone shorter than you, it is guaranteed they will experience an awkward boob-in-the face moment of brief suffocation. If it’s an adult, especially family, you may try and hunch your back like Quasimoto so they can’t feel just really how massive your boobs actually are, but this results in the dreaded half hug. Hugging animals needs little explanation. Basically your cat, gerbil, dog, etc. is getting shoved into your boobs constantly whenever you snuggle.

3. People feel the need to comment. Every day I overhear some variation of someone telling their friend “Ohmygod did you see her boobs?” or “Duuddee! Her boobs are HUGE.”

4. Friends want to touch them. I have multiple friends who often ask to touch or poke them…some friends just do this without asking. As a large-chested person, I understand the fascination to other women with smaller chests, but all the prodding after a while starts to make me feel like I belong in a traveling circus because they’re so freakishly large.

5. Strangers want to touch them. Friends touching my breasts is one thing, creepy strangers is another. This is not OK. Just, please, don’t touch my tits if I don’t know you. Luckily, this has only happened a few times.

6. The staring. Everyone stares at them all the time. To a point this is amusing because it proves that boobs really do have magical powers. People treat you differently. They are friendlier if you are wearing an exposing top and sometimes are inclined to give you free things. I once got a free Slurpee and pretzel at 7/11 (thanks, Boobs!). The staring is just a part of life for someone with big chumbawumbas.

7. Little kids use them as toys. Kids kind of don’t understand that touching another person’s boobs is not socially acceptable, so they do it. Kids use them as punching bags, stress balls, whatever they feel like. They usually think it’s funny to nudge your boobs and watch them jiggle. This is when you see your boobs for what they truly are: comedy. Your boobs are so large it is no longer sexually attractive, but comical. Nobody wants her boobs to be funny! But kids think they’re hilarious.

8. People you just met always ask the same questions: 1) “Don’t you ever get back pain?” and immediately followed that with 2) “Have you ever considered a reduction?” To which my answers are…yes and yes. But it’s none of your fucking business.

9. People try to make you feel better about them by saying “It’s ok, some guys really like big boobs.” Yes, some guys do. But usually the ones that only care about your bra size aren’t the kind of person you would want to date. I don’t care that guys like them because I have to live with them every day and they’re heavy and usually just a huge pain in the ass.

10. When you take your shirt off in front of anyone, they always say, “Wow. Your boobs are even bigger than I thought. They look sort of normal-sized under your shirts…but…they look huugggee right now.” I know. I fucking told you so and you didn’t believe me until now you see them in their full monstrosity.

11. Shopping is not a fun, leisurely activity; it’s a sport. The second you enter a store, the hunt begins. For you, it is not simply about spotting cute things and trying them on in your size. One of the big-boobed nature must take into the account the material, cut, and pattern of the shirt in order to evaluate whether there’s a slight chance it may fit. You must grab the largest size possible (because your breasts are not fitting into a small or medium, even though that’s your actual shirt size) and pray you can squish your knockers into it.

12. Good luck being fashionable. Usually, shopping ends in failure and you must, once again, settle for the t-shirt. It’s unfortunate and devastating, but it always comes back to the t-shirt.

13. Until you’re an adult, people are constantly telling you to “cover up” because it’s apparently indecent for a girl of 16 to wear a shirt in 100 degree weather that shows off body parts that EVERY woman has. Yours are just a little (a lot) larger than average.

14. No bathing suit tops ever fit. I’ve yet to find a bathing suit top that covers my tits.

15. Bras cost $80. And they’re all granny bras. I honestly don’t understand why they can’t make a bra that is bigger than a C into a pretty bra. All bras past 34D are ugly and come in some variety of the following shades: grey, brown, blue, and more grey. Why are big boobs forced into ugly bras? Nobody knows. Victorias Secret does NOT carry your bra size…or Target, or American Eagle, or any cute, girlish stores your friends shop at where bras only cost $30.

16. Before every holiday or family reunion your mom gives you a 10-minute lecture on packing appropriate clothing to wear around the family. But she doesn’t understand that unless you are wearing a turtleneck, you will have cleavage no matter what you wear.

17. If you’re cut off mid-breast in a picture, you look like Sasquatch. Absolutely beastly. It looks like you’re that fat all the way down the rest of your body. “No, I swear! Just angle the camera downwards an inch and you’ll see the rest of me is not gigantic!”

18. Clothing manufacturers don’t understand that you can be of average size and have huge tits. Granted that most people with my size breasts are larger, I am not a large person. It is unfathomable to clothing makers that you could be a pant size 8 and have size 32 G tits because they assume that someone with that huge of a rack has to be fairly overall obese. No. I exist. And I want to find clothes that don’t make me look like I’m a German beer garden girl / milk maid/ hooker. But, alas, there is never enough fabric on a size medium shirt to cover my boobs. If my nipples are covered, I’m buying the shirt. And, to the people giving me dirty looks on the street because you think I look indecent…I just bought the shirt because it’s cute! I can’t help it that it highlights my giant mammaries. If I wear a loose shirt, I automatically look 15 pounds heavier. It’s a real struggle. I have two options…hooker or heifer. And, for the record, I would be proud to be either of these things…but I am neither of these and it makes me mad that I have to pick between the two because I am a girl who simply falls in the middle. But society won’t allow it. As a woman with boobs, you have to be a fatty or you have to be a tramp, you can’t be a normal girl who is pleased to look decent in her clothes that actually fit.

19. They’ll sag one day. And your friends with small boobs are constantly reminding you of this to make themselves feel better.

20. Lastly, exercising is not the greatest. I have to thoroughly plan whenever I exercise. I jog at 3AM because I have insomnia and it’s a lovely time to get some cardio in. But, and more importantly, jogging at this time also means nobody is around, and that is precisely what I need for jogging with size G’s. I cannot have an audience when I run because my boobs are so all over the place it’s horrifying. They can’t be strapped down. If anyone is in the gym when I go during the day, forget running. It’s elliptical time for me now because running in front of people is out of the question.

Boobs can be fun, but they can also be a pain. Dear small-chested women, for me, please say a prayer to your maker that she / he did not supply you with more breast tissue than you can handle because insanely huge boobs are a lot of fucking work.