I first published this in March 2014, on another platform. I am republishing it here because I want everything that is important to me to be in one place.
A couple of years later, at a party, another guest admitted to having done something quite immoral to her husband. During the awkward conversation that followed, it became clear that he was the only person around the table who had not been aware of the said act. In a moment of sheer madness, caused by the urgent need to change the subject and knowing that this could only be done with something sensational, I heard myself announcing that I had a collection of famous breasts on my phone. As the tumbleweed blew around the room in the ensuing stunned silence, I realised that this was one of those moments when the idea should have been thought through and rejected as a plan. This premise did not change as the phone was passed around the table and my choice of, usually, 34-38 B/C was decried. There was no mention of the fact that the breasts were not, on the whole, naked, one or two were but the vast majority were tethered and usually clothed. Indeed, had I not stated that they were pictures of breasts, most of those sitting in judgement would have said that I had collected a fairly sad collection of, admittedly scantily clad, women. No, the only comments related to the mundaneness of my collection.
@angharadswife was, as usual, the most surprising as she did not appear angry or upset at all. I think she was, but mostly because I had informed the whole world in a very public way rather than just telling her. She was much happier than other people with the 34-38 B/C collection. During this whole toe curlingly mortifying evening I texted my bi friend and told him what had happened. His first response was to ask who’s breasts were in my collection, his second was to slag my selection off due to size and similarity and his third was to send a photo of a pair of prosthetic silicone breasts to add to my collection! The semispherical shaped ones rather than the tear drop shape. The whole evening was so distressing that I thought nothing of the picture at all. My mistake!
Standing In Kings Cross station today, waiting in an interminable queue (the wrong queue as it transpired) I mentioned to @AngharadswIfe that I was about to tell this episode of my stumbling journey and she commented that she hoped that she would get a decent explanation of that particular event! I don’t think “decent” really describes it but with the benefit of hindsight: I was embarrassed about having blurted out my story and angry with myself that @angharadswife had to cope with it with no warning; I was upset by the reaction I had got about the breasts chosen; and oddly, I felt quite violated despite the fact that it could be said that I had been the violator. These were my breasts, the breasts I wished I had.
I no longer have a collection on my phone. I don’t need them because over the next few weeks I realised that I had been collecting them to compare. I did not need them any more. I was very upset that the breasts I loved and desired, were thought of as too small. A poor excuse but a big step in my self awareness programme.