I may or may not be a selfie King. Meaning I take entirely too many selfies.
There’s probably a good chance that I take these selfies in an effort to boost my self-confidence with the way I look. I took this selfie yesterday at the best angle I am capable of doing on my phone to capture my outfit. We don’t own a full size mirror, so unless people want to see my clumsily standing on the side of a tub, this is the best I’ve got until I feel like digging out my tripod.
It’s the selfies and the angles that I attempt, though, that remind me I have boobs. And I hate them. I don’t think I will ever get full top surgery, but I am wanting to get a super breast reduction at some point. I currently am sporting DD titties, courtesy of my son, and it’s a killer. Even stuffing them in to a binder isn’t good enough. They try to burst out the top like I’m wearing a corset.
Maybe one day I’ll be a proud member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee.
Queering Through Life 