I have always been a bigger girl.  At the age of 10 I remember getting fitted for some fantastic lycra shorts and a leotard to wear to my dance lessons and the man in the shop declared I had a rather large bust.  Being naive and paranoid I assumed he meant bottom, as I was conscious that my pedal pushers didn’t make me look quite as svelte as the other girls due to my unfortunately over developed booty.  However, a quick dictionary check shocked me – bust?!  I was as flat as a pancake! At the age of 12 my mother dismissed my chubby body it as ‘puppy fat’.  At the age of 14 my friend’s younger sister was sat on my lap and suddenly peered down my top!  She then yelled in delight at how she had seen my boobies, and proceeded to draw pictures of them and hang them in the dressing room at the theatre where I was performing in a pantomime.  I was mystified – I longed to have breasts but they stubbornly refused to be more than gnat bites.  At 15 my wish came true in a BIG way and two enormous melons suddenly appeared on my chest.   It was around this time that I had my first proper boyfriend, who declared that he was sick of big boobs as his last girlfriend had been a D cup.  I found myself a weekend job in a cafe and used to despair at the way the XL polo neck made me look.  At 16 I started at sixth form college – my least favourite years of education.  I would see the beautiful slim girls trotting around in their Topshop boyfriend fit shirts and River Island blazers with quirky badges sewn on, and I would try desperately to recreate this with my Dad’s old shirts, a charity shop suit jacket and some Brownie badges.  I would spend hours trying to create the perfect smokey eyes, blushered cheeks, pouty lips to be like the popular crew.  They would look effortlessly chic in leggings, ra-ra skirts and Uggs.  I would chop the bottoms off my tights, squeeze into an old skirt and wear my overly fluffy boots.  I never quite managed to be cool and I regret trying to be something that I wasn’t.  I went onto Uni and found myself to be, as ever, one of the bustier bigger girls.

The three donts - never cut your own hair, take a photo in which you can see your arm and pout like a fool!

Again I tried to fit in, then I went through my ‘rebelling stage’ by dying my hair black and getting a lip piercing and eventually dropped out due to a lack of interest in the course.

It's lucky I learnt how to smile

My parents suggested I go travelling to my Motherland – Australia.  And so off I went on my own to ‘discover myself’.  It was the best decision ever.  I made lifelong friends, had some amazing experiences, went out with no make up on and had fabulous nights out, found bikinis that cost an arm and a leg but fit my bosoms, started to wear dresses,discovered padded bras in my size and learnt how to smile in photographs.  I stopped trying to be like the popular girls and started to understand my shape.

Learning how to dress my curves and be a diva in Oz

I returned to the UK a very different person.  I still change my look with varying degrees of success, but I have been much more aware of my shape and the dos and don’ts of having a fuller figure and fuller bust <3

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