In the past, my breasts were remarkably reliable. They stayed in place, always obedient, and required minimal attention. They faced forward with unwavering loyalty and, quite simply, were trustworthy.
However, after breastfeeding five children, I began to notice a shift. The once obedient breasts started to show signs of rebellion. They sagged beyond what I considered acceptable and could literally be rolled up like a burrito. The process of getting dressed each morning felt akin to preparing a Thanksgiving turkey, and they were never “at attention.” Instead, they seemed to have adopted a laid-back attitude, pointing in various directions. My final check in the mirror now includes making sure my breasts are not competing for attention. It’s quite the sight when they point in completely different directions, leaving me to wonder what onlookers might think.
Yet, these minor rebellions pale in comparison to their ultimate act of defiance.
I have a penchant for purchasing Groupons. I tend to forget about them until the last moment before they expire. Recently, I bought a Groupon for a massage for my birthday and, of course, forgot to schedule it until the final week. The only available therapist was a masseur, whom I affectionately refer to as my “mansuesse.” In my pre-kids days, I reveled in booking a mansuesse. Their strong hands provided the perfect pressure, and they offered an hour of delightful silence. Now, however, I felt an obligation to prepare him for what lay ahead: “Five kids… the old mare isn’t what she used to be.”
Despite my insecurities, I bravely booked the last-minute appointment and hoped for the best.
Initially, everything was going smoothly. My mansuesse asked about my preferences and then, blissfully, the room fell silent. I felt myself relax deeply, enjoying the massage until the moment of betrayal occurred. As he lifted my arm to massage my shoulders, one breast, previously hidden under the covers, decided to leap into the open. The old me would have never allowed this to happen, but today was different. As George Michael’s “Freedom” played softly in the background, my breasts seemed to celebrate their newfound liberation.
I froze, contemplating my next move while remaining perfectly still. I convinced myself that if I didn’t acknowledge the situation, it wouldn’t be real. “If I keep my eyes closed and never directly see the exposed breast, how can it be confirmed?” I lay there, trying to mimic a sleeping client, although I suspected my mansuesse wasn’t fooled. After all, we’re not talking about modest “A” cups here but rather post-baby “DD” cups—impossible to ignore.
Eventually, my attentive mansuesse lowered my arm and discreetly adjusted the blanket, covering my rebellious breasts until they were securely tucked away. I could almost hear their sigh of relief as they were returned to captivity. I worried that this incident might haunt him forever.
After my hour concluded and I re-secured my errant appendages, I stepped out, bracing for the look of horror I expected. Instead, he offered me a glass of water and casually asked, “Would you like to schedule your next appointment?” I was taken aback, quickly chastised my rebellious breasts again, and resolved to book my next massage—right after leaving a generous tip.
This experience taught me the importance of preparation for the unexpected, especially concerning my breasts. You never know where they might make an appearance next. For now, I’ll continue seeing the same mansuesse, knowing there’s little left to lose. Still, I can’t help but chuckle every time he pulls the sheets a bit higher.
Well played, defiant breasts. Well played indeed.
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Summary:
This narrative humorously reflects on the changes in a woman’s body after motherhood, particularly the experience of breastfeeding and the unexpected challenges that arise. It highlights the evolving relationship with one’s body and the amusing incidents that can accompany self-care experiences, such as massages. The story encourages readers to embrace the unexpected, reminding them to approach their bodies with humor and grace.
Keyphrase: aging breasts journey
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