Member-only story
My Butt, My Boobs, and Other Things that Aren’t Supposed to Exist
My body isn’t yours to critique
“Turn around.”
I spun before my cheerleading advisor, wearing the short, flouncy skirt I was being fitted for. At sixteen, I was five feet tall and 105lbs — but curvy. My breasts were larger than most girls, and my waist nipped in creating curvy hips.
My advisor, Mrs. Scott, tugged at the skirt’s hem. “It needs to be shorter.”
I cringed. The skirt barely covered my butt already, but I said nothing.
“Mia,” she said. “You need to lose some weight. Maybe five to ten pounds. Your boobs are bursting out of your top.”
I gazed down at the v-neck shell I was wearing. My breasts were a solid 32 C, but looked larger because of my small frame. “I’m sorry. I’ll try.”
Mrs. Scott nodded and motioned to the tailor. “Take it up another inch.” She turned toward the next girl, leaving me with the tailor. “Kristi, what have you been eating?”
I stood still as the tailor pinned my skirt. When she was finished, I ripped the uniform off, dropped my skirt on the growing pile of clothes needing alterations, and ran to my car where I proceeded to sob. I wasn’t fat, just too curvy. I had too much boob. Too much butt. How could I get rid of them?
