"When I was little, like many of us, I dreamed of my adult self. I imagined myself as a teacher, in a serious dress, with a husband who loved me and children who called me "mom". I also imagined my future body - beautiful, womanly, with every part "just right".
Some of the dreams came true. I got married, I became a mother. I didn't become a teacher. And yes, I grew up, I took on my adult form. But not in the way I had imagined.
Puberty came a little late for me, actually. However, I remained 5'11", with a petite body and a chest that barely filled even the smallest bra.
Society taught us that to be "feminine" and attractive, a woman had to have big breasts, at least that was my perception. It wasn't the only message I heard, but it was the strongest. In every movie, commercial, music video, magazine... one idea was repeated: being sexy started with the size of the breasts.
And by that standard, I was never “complete.” Even though my body was beautiful in its own way, I felt like I was missing something.
When I fell in love with the boy who would later become my husband, he never made me feel bad about the size of my breasts. But the insecurity lived inside me. I even thought about implants, with the idea that one day, after I had children and was done breastfeeding, I would “fix it.”
But things didn't go as I had planned, in the most beautiful way possible.
The birth of my first child made me look at my body with new admiration. My breasts "worked" – they produced milk, a lot at first, then enough. For the first time, they were "average" in size. And I felt good.
Then my second child was born. And for the first time I was starting to feel free in my body.
Then came my 40s. I started therapy. I started writing. I started getting to know myself.
I'm 42 now. And for the first time, finally, I love myself. Not just for my body – but for my mind. For the gentleness, for the creativity, for the way I understand people and how I express myself.
I love my slightly bigger nose, the wrinkles around my eyes when I laugh. Because they're mine. And I love my chest – not because it's big, but because it's part of me.
I never wanted a different body. I wanted a different love.
Self-love. And now I finally have it. :)" - from an Albanian woman, for every girl who hasn't felt "enough".
Note: The article has been adapted by the editorial team for editorial purposes and clarity. Copyright Anabel.al / Reprinting without the permission of the editorial team is prohibited.
