Camping

Okay so, I'm back. But I just want to let you know that this is going to be a very honest post, and not necessarily the most sexy sexy.

There are few things I dislike more than feeling like an outcast. An outsider. Someone who is on the edges of the group, but they don't quite let in.

So..

The camping trip we just went on was me, my partner, and three of his friends from work. Two women, and one guy.

Luckily I'd already met two of them at little work parties my partner had brought me to previously, but, I hadn't met one of the women.

She doesn't have a car so we picked her up from their job.

I should have known from our first meeting that things were going to be weird for most of this weekend.

Unabashed staring at my chest. Not a look, ashamed, then eye contact, but full-on gawking.

Like her eyes were saying

" Are congrats or condolences in order for the amount of tiddy my eyes are experiencing."

With a simple eyebrow raise she communicated all this and more to me.

We got to the campground pretty late, so it was a lot of hustling to make sure the tent was set up, the air mattress was blown up, and our heated blanket and lights were charged.

I haven't been camping in a long time so this was actually kind of exhausting for me. After setting up we all cooked hot dogs over the flame and just sat in a circle talking.

I don't drink, so during the time where everyone else is having their liquid confidence, I typically end up just overeating and getting a little quiet. That was going to be the case for about 2 days.

My partner's other friends sometimes would dart their eyes toward my boobs a little bit, which I understand, but they are just much more understanding and don't linger.

The one woman I hadn't met yet lingered.

Her energy toward me had been weird all night too. Not only was she staring at my boobs often, but she seemed to refuse to look me in the eyes when addressing me. She was extremely dismissive when I spoke.

This kind of stuff is extremely triggering to me since my mom was very dismissive of me when I was growing up. The entire experience made me feel really abandoned and sad. I ended up just slumping down into my seat and eating.

Donuts, too many hot dogs, an extra hamburger, 3 cans of Pepsi... I had a little tummy ache by the end of the night. It just felt like as they all got drunker, they got louder and happier, and I felt further and further away. Felt natural to just keep eating and eating. Dissociating into sweets and savorys.

But...Before the night ended she had to drunkenly say something.

I was getting very sleepy so I don't remember her words exactly but it was basically

"I wasn't gonna say anything but godamn those are so huge"

...

My stomach sank as I realized that nobody here was really sober enough to realize that I didn't want to launch into a half hour conversation about my boobs where everyone lines up with a question.

I think part of the reason I like this patreon so much, and some of the paid chats that y'all engage with me on, is that I have full control. I can say no to any question, and I can answer with as much vulnerability or silliness as I please. Talking about my boobs actually becomes something that empowers me... Whereas, in this situation, it did the opposite.

Maybe I need to find better boundaries but it felt like I couldn't just say " I'd prefer not to talk about my breasts right now."

Instead I said something like

" Yeah it's gotten pretty crazy"

I left the door cracked an inch and she pushed it wide open.

The next 30 minutes were basically her badgering me about every cliche boob question that there is. I sat there, dissociated, word vomiting answers like I was in detention and being forces to explain what I'd done.

We all went to bed really late Friday night and then woke up Saturday morning. To everybody else it was like nothing had happened. It was a dream the night before, easily forgotten.

We all went back to our tents and seemingly everyone fell asleep easily. I didn't have the booze and weed in my system to make it all foggy. I just lay there in bed running it through my mind over and over again. Why didn't I just say I don't want to talk about it. She would have looked like a bitch if I had just said that.

If all of the questioning wasn't enough, my breasts were feeling sore and tender all night. I could tell I wouldn't be getting to sleep easily while I massaged them and digested all the weird crap I'd eaten.

At around 3 in the morning I thought I heard a group of coyotes or something moving through the campground as well. In my mind I was cursing these drunk idiots for leaving hot dogs out.

The next morning we all got together and made breakfast. Again, I had the compulsion to overeat.

We went on a hike, which I was happy to have brought boots for. My back started screaming at me about halfway through, but at that point I couldn't do much except plod forward, completely aware that it was my boobs that had caused this pain no one else was really aware of.

I should mention that my partner was constantly checking in with me and being an absolute pillar of support and love. Even during the badgering about my boobs the night before, he was the one to finally end it by saying we should all go to bed.

Again, during the hike, that boob curious bitch made comments. I guess it had became obvious that I was the one slowing the group down a bit, having to sit down every now and then, massaging my shoulders and back a bit since the plaid I was wearing wasn't compressing my breasts far enough back to make going uphill any easier.

I can't emphasize enough how much I felt like an outcast. Not only because I wasn't a part of their constant work-related conversations, or the fact that I wasn't as excited to get back to the campground for drinks and weed, but even the physical activities they took part in I couldn't really do.

They brought a basketball to dribble around, which is something my own jiggly basketballs prevent me from doing easily. 😑🤣

" Want to play two versus three?" She asked

Me, looking down at my boobs

"Nah go ahead without me..." 😅😂🤣😭

I was able to play a game of horse afterwards, where there isn't as much movement involved, just shooting. But even then, I can't do it like everyone else. There's so much quivering and movement going on between my elbows that guiding the ball to the hoop is much more complicated compared to even just a year ago.  

This time she didn't comment, I think out of sympathy. Which didn't make me feel that much better. The girl who's been making fun of me for having giant freakish boobs is now realizing that they're so big it's actually not even normal, so she lays off while they all have fun running up and down the court, something my breast size prevents.

 At that point I would have welcomed a little humor instead of pity.

By the time we got back to the campground that was getting a bit dark, and the drinks started coming out again. I started to get anxiety and again leaned into overeating. My stomach a little bit bloated and sensitive from the day before, but I for some reason ignored those signs and just kept lifting chips and cookies and s'mores to my lips.

That night there wasn't as much of a boob interrogation, but more like a similar amount of attention paid to them from her, but spaced out throughout the fireside chat. I feel weird since normally my boundaries are so good around people. I feel "no is a complete sentence" but in this weird different power dynamic I felt like I just couldn't speak up.

It really felt like I was being bullied for something I have no control over.

She went to sleep earlier than the other two and I ended up having a much better night for the last 2 hours. Making more s'mores than I needed and laughing about how scared we all were hearing coyotes howl into the night.

We stayed up till about midnight and then went back to our tents.

A nice little boob detail y'all might enjoy is that it was so cold, I started to have little pokie nipples in my shirt. My partner noticed.

The last morning we were all together. I didn't want to hear about my boobs again so I put on a full turtleneck and compression layer and just made my boobs the least visible possible. It was super tight around my chest and baggy around the armpits.... needing enough fabric for the boobs to not split my top into, but leaving a lot of fabric for where it should fit a much larger person. Anyway, it helped with the cold.

Sorry this blog post wasn't a bit more dynamic or bombastic, and definitely not as many jokes or silliness but this is just kind of how I was feeling.

I'm going to think about what the posting schedule is going to be like going forward since I do think I have more to say if it's only a post once a week, but I don't want to limit myself to that since some weeks I may just add some extra content for the fun of.

Thanks so much for being here with me on this journey y'all. It actually means so much to me that not only have y'all become a new income, but also a new support system where I can vent.

🥰🍈🍈🩵