A couple of weeks ago, on a Saturday night, my longterm boyfriend’s mate made a comment to me that I haven’t been able to forget about.
A group of guys and girls were all at my apartment to celebrate a mutual friend’s surprise birthday, and had been drinking for hours when it happened. It had been a warm Sydney day, and most of the women were dressed in typical summer clothes; strappy tops, denim skirts, the usual.
I was in a wrap-style dress that showed a bit of cleavage (hard not to do when you have large boobs like mine) – it’s one of my favourites.
So I put down my drink to go to the bathroom when my boyfriend’s friend stopped me in my tracks, in the middle of some of our friends, to ask: ‘Woah, woah, woah, what’s going on here?’
He was gesturing to my chest. He continued: ‘Your tits look magnificent.’
I froze.
I could feel the blood pooling in my face as I blushed. I instantly felt uncomfortable; like I was suddenly naked and on display after all these hours of feeling confident. I mean… what do you… say to that? Why was my boyfriend’s friend commenting on my breasts?
Oh. He’s married too, by the way.
I mustered to mutter, “Sorry, what?” while my female friends glanced at each other awkwardly – I’m guessing they could sympathise from experience – and a few of the guys turned to see what was going on.