how my breasts look

I don’t know how my breasts look.  They’re large; they droop.  They’re soft and comforting.  They’re uncomplicated.

My breasts are pretty–that’s for sure.  Rather symmetrical, but not entirely.  Rather rounded.  Substantial and trustworthy.

My areolae are huge and pale pink.  The nipples themselves are average size, I guess.  Sometimes I fantasize about having dark, slightly shiny areolae and extra big, plump nipples, so erotic for a mouth to grasp.  But I have what I have.

Are my breasts huge?  Sometimes they look that way, in pictures. Depends on the angle.  My ass is huge, but how huge?  Not circus huge, I don’t think.  Who knows.

My tummy is huge.  My guts seem ok in there.  It’s soft, seems kind, honest, can get in the way a little bit, but that’s fine.  I accept my tummy 100%, on its terms–I love it unconditionally and forever.

I look at this picture taken this afternoon, of my breasts with my spouse’s hands on them.  He has regular size largish hands.  But my breasts look big compared to them!

I like my hair, my smile, my breasts.  Well, I like my entire body, but my breasts I think other people could like easily also.

name for it

Does everyone not understand how their body looks?  I googled dysmorphia and dysphoria–neither one applies.  Maybe it’s related to how I don’t know where I am in space–I’m clumsy and bump into things a lot because I don’t have a good sense of where my body is, or its borders.

Yeah, I don’t know where I am in space, don’t know what my body looks like.  I’m mostly face-blind also.  Maybe part of my brain is damaged.

I heard people with autism are clumsy and have hand-eye coordination issues.  So if I add that characteristic to the already known–social differences, sensory sensitivity, hyper-focusing, stimminess…

Just now I took an online quiz about whether I have autism, and I scored in the yes category.  “Likely” is 34 and up.  My score was 36.

I had to laugh at the question “Are you preoccupied with dates?”  It was like a joke, in weekly community meetings, how I accidentally memorized the dates when events were happening.  Someone would ask “When is such and such happening?” and I knew.  It was weird.  I accidentally memorized phone numbers also.

Well, thank you for loving me.  We can work with all of this.