Boobs
My nickname growing up was “Flatty Patty.” I pretended like this nickname didn’t bother me, but I was self-conscious of my small boobs. My dramatic teenage self-thought to be a girl was hard enough, but then to be cursed with a bad case of the flat chest made femininity even harder.
I felt like a boy every time I got dressed for volleyball practice because my sports bra made my boobs even smaller, which I didn’t think was even possible.
I was so insecure I went as far as trying out just about every brand of ‘breast enhancement’ pills, which of course, none of which worked.
So I was forced to accept my reality—I would forever be “Flatty Patty.” As I grew older, I started realizing that there are far more important things in life than my rack size.
Each day I worried less and less about my boobs and focused on my relationships and my dreams. Off to college, I went, where I was introduced to Sara and weed.
Sara and I met the first day of Freshman year and immediately hit it off. Soon after meeting Sara, she introduced me to Mary Jane, and we also quickly hit it off.
I loved smoking weed, and it quickly became a positive addition to my life. My anxiety levels decreased, I felt overall happier, and it made exercise fun again.
There was another side effect of smoking weed, however, that I was not expecting at all. My boobs got bigger!
When I started college I was a 36A (let’s be honest, I could get away wearing a training bra), and by the time I graduated, I was a 36C. That’s right—my boobs grew two whole cup sizes!
I know what some of you are thinking—that I gained my ‘freshman 15’ and the weight went straight to my chest. Wrong. I was exercising regularly and eating relatively healthy.
My pant size was the same, everything was the same, except my bra size.
I didn’t notice until Sara and I were buying dresses to wear to graduation which meant I needed to wear a grown-up bra, not a sports bra like I usually wore.
When I went to put on the only real bra, I owned that’s when I noticed it didn’t fit. In fact, it wasn’t even close to fitting. I was thrilled.
All of those years in Jr. High and High School wanting big boobs so bad, and now, at 22-years-old, I finally had the boobs of my dreams, and all thanks to marijuana. Whoop Whoop!
I’ve since done a little bit of research to see if there have been studies done on whether or not weed can make breasts larger and haven’t found anything substantial.
I’ve asked some of my other girlfriends, and they said they hadn’t noticed a difference, but then again none of them have boobs as small as mine used to be, and none of them have smoked weed as consistently as I have for as long as I have.
Sara and I smoked two to three times every week throughout our four years of college. Since graduating, I don’t smoke nearly as often, but my boobs, my great 36C boobs, seem to be here to stay.
