“Two years ago, I met someone who initiated a relationship with me over text. The texting, which started off “platonically”, soon became romantic and eventually, moved to sexting and nudes. While sexting, he once told me that he imagined my breasts to be “perky and proud” and “not sad and crestfallen”. When I did eventually send him a nude, he called my breasts “magnificent” and “pendulous”. I wondered if he was hiding his disappointment at them not being “perky”, feeling
misled by my otherwise thin frame. 

After a year of texting, we finally met and made love many, many times. While making love, he’d stare at my breasts for minutes, as though he was carefully studying them. When we were not making love, he’d often grab them and squeeze them. It was as though he couldn’t keep his hands off my breasts. I grew to see pendulous as a compliment and I couldn’t feel sexier.

He left after a week of staying with me and soon, his texts reduced as well. I am now mourning a relationship that was probably never meant to be anything more than sexual, even though I believed otherwise. 

In this picture, I’m wearing a scarf on my “pendulous” breasts, a scarf that has the scent of his perfume. This is the only physical reminder I have left of him, and this too will soon disappear. But every time I see myself naked, I remember his hands on my breasts. His eyes on my breasts. I hope I can forget soon.”

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