welcome to the big boob bombshell bunch

I was on YouTube the other day, on what seemed like (well probably was) my eighth hour looking at beauty gurus, fitness fanatics, and comedic parodies. By then, I was well into the middle of the night and I had this sudden urge to type in ‘having big boobs’ in the search engine. I noticed that throughout my time watching vlogs of women overcoming their body issues and releasing those puppies into the wild without any bra, not one of them was bigger chested. I, myself, happen to carry more baggage below my neck, and all I wanted was to see a woman like me embrace herself.

I kid you not. As soon as I typed in having big boobs, I was slapped in the face with a multitude of videos that really put down big chested woman, AND from big chested women themselves. Type it in on YouTube right now, you’ll see what I mean.

(Here is an actual list of the results, from the top!)

9 Reasons Why Having Big Boobs is the Shittiest Part of the Summer

11 Big Boobs Problems with Lindsey Pelas

Top Ten Reasons Why Having Big Boobs would Suck

I Hate Having Big Boobs

Guys. Girls. I’m dead serious that list did not stop here. Not even close.

I was appalled and deeply saddened that women like me felt such shame for their own bodies. I get it. They get a lot of attention, most of time unwanted. We feel like we can’t wear the same things our small-chested counterpart friends can wear. Or we feel like we could never go to the supermarket without a bra because we can’t stand the stares.

But fuck that. This shit needs to stop. Your boobs are mini goddesses. Embrace them. They’re yours, you own those motherfuckers. No one on this earth has your pair of boobs. They’re unique to you. And they’re hot!

I used to be that girl. Scarf it up, layer on the sweaters, and keep buying more sports bras! Whatever I could cover my body up with from being seen. But then I realized that I was hurting myself more. So what if someone makes a comment? Are they in charge of my life, or am I?

I learned to accept my body for what it is and love the fact that it isn’t anyone else’s. I often go to the supermarket, the mall, or wherever I need to go that day without a bra on and without the need to feel shameful. Men are going to look. Women are going to look. People might make comments. Sadly, this will probably never stop. But oh well. Life goes on. And I want my life to go on without needing to feel disgusted by my gorgeous melons.

To my big bombshell sisters: beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It is subjective. Don’t let anyone tell you that there is one beauty standard. Don’t let anyone make you feel inferior without your consent. It sucks to be put in a sexualized category just because you have honkers, but it’s worse to let it get the best of you. Ignore childish remarks. Don’t let anyone tell you that you cannot wear certain clothes because it is unflattering for your body type. Never be jealous of or criticize our small-chested sisters; they may be going through similar body issues. Learn to love your features. And have fun with them when the time is right, if you know what I mean.

Note: I changed my blog name from My Malena to Malena from Mars because apparently it is the name of an online clothing store. Tell me if the new name is yay or nay. I’d appreciate it.

the word sex just rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?

So, I consider myself to be very liberal when it comes to sexuality and expressing it whenever I want to. I remember discovering how good my body felt when I did certain things at a young age, but thinking it was unnatural and therefore needed to be hidden from view of the world. If that wasn’t sad enough, I also attended Catholic schools before entering college; and we all know how encouraging they can be.

It wasn’t until my second semester of college when my boyfriend of some years dumped me for new pussy. After that, I became more lost than the show Lost. I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted to become because me was we, and now I am just me again. What I did know was that I seemed to always have an unquenchable thirst for sex and vulgarity. I was always told to act like a young lady! It’s distasteful to say those words! No man wants a butch girl! I decided that I didn’t give a fuck what people thought of me. I wanted to say what I wanted, when I wanted, and do who I wanted, when I wanted.

Slowly, I came to find myself, my real self. Hell yes, I made terrible mistakes and yielded several embarrassments. I fucked a man who told me only after the fact that he was married. I fell for a one-night-stand. I was actually rejected a few times by men who¬†were concerned that a woman asked for fuckery. I was distracted from school, a HUGE no-no in my book. And at one point, I became even more lost than found. But like I said, slowly, and I’m talking turtle speed, I found myself again. I don’t regret a single moment of it. I’m glad I can walk out my front door and strive to get what I want, like earning that A in class and getting some A** from that stud in class. I’m grateful for even knowing what I want from life. And like they say, the turtle wins the race.

I must say that throughout this process of self-discovery, I questioned if I acted so carelessly just because I was hurt by my ex-lover. I admit that partly I was. But I also will admit that I have a love for fast love. And it’s something I would not have discovered sooner, if he didn’t get the fuck out of my life.