Because finding a swimsuit that loves your bazoomas can be a bit of a costume drama…

You will put it off for as long as humanly possible

And then you will put it off some more

When you finally decide to go, there are actually loads of things you like!

“Hey,” you think to yourself, “Maybe this won’t be so bad.”

You try the first one on. Oh, no wait, that must be backwards. You turn it around. Oh, wait, that’s worse.

You try and wrestle your boobs into place, but they put up a good fight.

They. Are. Everywhere.

Who even invented string bikinis? They are so weak a tiny dog could overpower them.

And my boobs are the size and weight of a tiny dog. Each.

You keep thinking about that film where Kate Upton ran along the beach with, like, *NO* support…

So that must have hurt like a b***h.

Remember five minutes ago, when you were all excited and optimistic? Ha.


Now, here you are trying to keep control of your boobs as they spill out over this piece of dental floss in every direction known to man.

You decide to try on a plunging neckline. You are almost certain it will look awful, but there’s that thought in the back of your head:

“What if I actually look smoking hot?”

Where is… where is all the material?

DID THEY FORGET TO SEW ENTIRE BITS OF THIS TOGETHER?

Wait, maybe this is ‘the look’? Maybe everyone is meant to be able to see your nipples?

Maybe it’s a feminist statement!

This is not the look. You are not meant to be able to see your nipples. This is not a feminist statement.

The shop assistant yells, “How’s it going in there?”

It’s probably best not to tell her you’re having an existential crisis in the change rooms.

You start giving yourself a pep talk. You will not be defeated by a swimming costume.

You try on another one and look at yourself in the mirror.

Why don’t people understand that your boobs need support?

They need to be taken care of. They need a buddy to lift them up and help them out.

Right, this one has underwire. Underwire is key. Underwire is your friend. Underwire is life.

Ok it literally looks like I’m just wearing a bra.

Why can’t I just wear one of those cute triangle bikinis like other girls? Why must every bikini that fits me be designed to look like a 1950s pin up girl? I do. Not. Want. Polka. Dots.

And it is so uncomfortable. I want to be able to relax, I don’t want bits of wire sticking into my ribcage while I’m lying by the pool!

You wiggle out of the cozzies and heap them into a pile to give back to the shop assistant.

You are Julia Roberts, except you have nothing but anxiety and mild neck strain to show for your efforts.

Screw this. Go and take your knockers out for cake.

This is what ASOS was invented for.

@LilyPesch

Image: Amber Griffin

One of the best things about having an older sister is listening to her life advice, right? Bras, boys, big life decisions like whether or not you should buy a watermelon cozzie or book a flight and go travelling once school is out. Well, betty has a VIP pass to a group of girls that are sharing their words of wisdom, too. Because there’s always room for more embarrassing stories we can learn from. Awkward sex chats, fashion mistakes, first kisses, her celebrity crush…TV and radio presenter Olivia reveals *everything* about growing up. And you’ve got a front row seat.

Do you remember the joy you felt in primary school when you learnt that you could spell boobs on a calculator if you just typed in 80085? It was a joyous time, filled with giggling and this idea that you’re in on a secret. But how many secrets are your boobs still hiding? Take this quiz to find out.

Men have nipples and breasts because all fetuses are female at first.

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Women with inverted nipples are more likely to have twins.

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Sleeping facedown can change the shape of your breasts over time.

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If you massage your breasts continuously for four hours, you’ll be able to lactate.

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When breasts are fully developed, they should be exactly identical.

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Some women can have an orgasm through nipple stimulation alone.

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Humans are the only primates that permanently have breasts. Everyone else just grows them when they’re breastfeeding.

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The average cup size in the UK is a 36DD.

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The pinky/brownish skin around your nipple is called a Nipular Halo.

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On average, women own eight different bras.

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Breasts got the nickname ‘boobs’ from Edith Boob, who was the first woman to have a breast enlargement.

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Tenderness in your boobies pre-period is caused by the surge of estrogen and progesterone in your body.

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Ahh, boobs. You fickle funbags. While some of us might spend our teen years feeling like we’re perpetually at the back of the boob queue, others wish they hadn’t been given double helpings. Some people like Liz.

“It seems most girls are thrilled when puberty arrives and the bee stings on their chest blossom into lovely lady lumps,” says Liz. “I was the same. Age 14-15, I went from being basically inverted to a full B cup over the summer. I had been in high school for a year and was jealous of the older girls walking around in all their booby glory so now, life was good.

“But then my full B cups were spilling over my bra by autumn, and my new C cups soon turned into D cups and finally settled at G cups. Suddenly, I had humungo boobs; huge, big, giant, obnoxious breasts at the ripe age of 16.”

elderly women

“One weekend, I went into the brand new Victoria’s Secret that had just opened up. Heading inside with all intentions of finding a beautiful bra to make myself feel better about the boulders on my chest, I asked to be measured to find my perfect fit. The sales girl looked at my chest then looked at me and smirked, “we don’t carry your size here”. I ended up going to a specialist bra shop and getting two beige bras with thick straps. I felt 50 years old.”

Breast friends forever?

When even wearing three bras at once didn’t kill the jiggle, Liz found herself slowly quitting the sports she’d loved when she was younger. “I struggled shopping at all the cool stores with my friends as none of the tops fit. Soon enough I was dreading nights out. I could no longer count on my fingers and toes how many times I had been asked if my boobs were real (as if that’s a question that you can ask a stranger on the street!). Every conversation I had was being directed at my boobs, as if they had the ability to answer back – my face didn’t matter, the only thing that existed was my boobs.”

After enduring pack pain, bad posture and dents in both her shoulders and her self-esteem, at 19 Liz decided to take action – and it was bye-bye boobs. After several doctor’s appointments, some awkward paper nightgown action and a year of waiting, she had a breast reduction operation and went from an (OM)G cup down to a more manageable DD.

Joey boobs

“All and all, my breast reduction was a huge decision, I did not take it lightly,” says Liz. “I researched, I asked questions, I weighed pros and cons and came to the conclusion it was the right call for me. The process was scary, it wasn’t easy and it does hurt, but for me it was the best decision I could have made and I don’t regret it. Not for one second.”

The bare facts on boob reductions
  • It’s usually day surgery – you can be in and out in under 8 hours.
  • If the size of your boobs is affecting your health, you might be able to have a free breast reduction on the NHS.
  • The way your boobs look fresh out of surgery is not always how they'll stay – they might still grow, shrink and change shape.
  • As with any surgery, there are risks – so do your research, talk to your doctor and know every detail. Even the gross ones.

The biggest perks… according to Liz

1. Shopping

I can shop in regular shops and get shirts and dresses that fit!” says Liz. Don’t get me wrong, there are still many styles that just were not meant for bigger boobs but it’s a million times better than it was pre-op.”

2. Getting active

I can go to the gym, play sport and run around with my nephew so much more easily. I still double-bra but that’s for my own comfort and even some of my friends sporting the B and C cups double bra so it’s not that bad.”

3. Body confidence

“I’m happy with how I look topless. Not thrilled – I haven’t made it there yet – but I don’t feel like an 80-year-old lady when my top is off anymore.”

4. Less pain

“Yeah, back pain is a part of getting older… but if I hadn’t done something about it when I did, I might be a hunchback by now. Or at least in more pain than a young woman should have to deal with.”

5. Bras

“I can buy cute ones that don’t cost £200 and only come in boring old-lady white and old-lady beige. There is no massive indent on my shoulder and my bras last a year before giving up on life, as opposed to before my reduction, when I had a three-month window before the weight of the boobies took over…”

6. Social life

“People still stare, make obnoxious comments and oggle at my boobs; but because I’m more confident in myself and know that they’re not as giant as they were, it means I can stand proud, be less self-conscious and not feel like I’m a giant walking boob.”

7. Sleeping

“Sleeping with big boobs is ridiculous. When you lie on your back you feel like they’re suffocating you as they either roll up to you chin, or flop onto your sides like the parting of the sea. Side-sleeping isn’t much better as your cleavage goes up to your neck and gets hot and sweaty… and let’s not even talk about lying on your tum. Smoosh central. So with a smaller chest, sleep isn’t as difficult.”

8. Comfort

“I’m not saying I’m a prancing ball of comfort or anything, but straight up, I don’t struggle with my bra and clothes, I don’t lose crisps and crumbs into the deep abyss that was my cleavage, people stare less, hit them accidentally while hand-talking less, and seat belts fit comfortably between them now. Which is nice.”

9. My parents

“I think the worst thing for a parent is to see your child in pain. Both of my parents felt helpless, but did whatever they could to make me feel better about what I looked like and how I felt (thanks guys). Your fam and friends go through rough times with you and we are so lucky to have these people in our lives. Mine saw me gain confidence and be a happier person because of this ordeal.”

10. Helping others

“The best thing I did for myself was following my gut and getting my boob reduction. Other girls struggling with the decision shouldn’t go through it alone. This is a major decision that should not be taken lightly as this surgery is not for everyone. If I can give just one girl some comfort by sharing my own personal experience then that is definitely one of the best things about getting one.”

If you want to find out more about boob reductions, take a look at the NHS website.

Illustration: Katie Edmunds

I am about to break a silence that has lasted some eighteen years. I am about to tell you something I have never told my best friends. I have never told my mother. I have never told a doctor.

Are we all ready?

When I was a teenager, for a while I had a bad thing happening in my nipular area. I don’t know how long it lasted, all I remember is that it felt like years.

Here are the basic details:

I have had eczema all my life. When I was a kid, it only ever showed up in my elbows and behind my knees and the doctor told me I’d probably grow out of it. Oh, doctor. You sweet, naive fool, if only you had been right. I think of that alternate-universe Janina, from time to time. The Janina who can buy moisturiser freely and without fear, experimenting with joy instead of sticking with that one brand that seems to work consistently most of the time (Aveeno, by the way). She must be so happy.

While the rashy patches on my legs and arms did fade, they were replaced by weirder, more painful, less predictable rashes literally everywhere else. When the weather is hot, for example, I get pompholyx on my hands and the soles of my feet. This particular brand of eczema consists of tiny, itchy blisters that recently saw me tear my shoes off mid-exercise and clutch my feet in agony. My shoulders, neck and back are popular sites also, which can make wearing a bra downright painful.

But nothing has ever been so bad as the Year of the Nip.

It started slowly. A weeping crack here, a weeping crack there. First the left nipple, then the right. Eventually, the peaks atop my boobs were more weeping crack than nipple. Literally a pair of open sores on my chest.

It was unpleasant.

They would dry onto the fabric of my clothes and I’d rip them open every time I got changed. So I put plasters on them, obviously. But friends, my nipples were too much for your common-or-garden plaster. I had to find an upgrade.

It is at this point that a doctor might have been able to help me. Doctors are good at helping with this kind of thing. But I was young and embarrassed and I couldn’t figure out how I would tell anyone what was happening in the secret confines of my underwire.

So I MacGyvered a solution. I chopped a sanitary pad in half, and put a half in each cup. I slathered them in emollient cream and prayed for salvation. It wasn’t perfect. They would slide around sometimes. I would find one making an escape towards my cleavage, and be flooded with fear that someone had seen it poking out from my t-shirt.

The thing here is, that it was happening elsewhere as well. Specifically, to my lips. I’d had to take a full two weeks off school, because my face had basically exploded – I had conjunctivitis, a cold sore that made my jaw swell to three times its size, and lip-eczema that had left my lips so raw they had – brace yourselves – scabbed themselves shut.

You would think that, given all the highly visible grossness that was happening one floor up, it wouldn’t have been too difficult to say, ‘oh, hey, also my boobs are revolting right now!’ But sometimes it’s difficult to talk about boobs, in that kind of way.

We can talk about cleavage and cup size, of course, we can talk about plunge and balcony and lace and underwire, and how few people wear the right size bra. We can talk about how to feel for lumps – in theory, at least. But talking about things being really wrong in that area is scary. Or if it’s not scary it’s shameful.

There is one thing every teenage girl knows to be true: boobs are important. Apparently. They mean you’re growing up, they are the most obvious thing that might make you desirable – if something goes wrong with them, does that mean you no longer are?

Added to that is the fact that we only hear about things going wrong with boobs if it’s really serious, so when you think about boob health, the first, terrifying, thing you think of is cancer. But little things can go wrong too. No one talks about the infected ingrown hair they once had on their left breast, or all the other small problems that might seem huge at the time.

The happy ending here is that, eventually, my disgusting nipples healed. I am still scared they’ll come back, of course, but if they do I think I might just be brave enough to go to the doctor about it.

And for a silver lining, after all that, periodically plucking out long black nipple hairs doesn’t seem like that big a deal at all.

@j9andlf

Will wearing bras make my boob saggy? If I don’t wear bras, will THAT make my boobs saggy? Should I wear a bra to bed? Dr Yaz answers all these questions in this week’s video.

If you have a question for Dr Yaz, email dryaz@betty.me

Breasts can be mysterious creatures. Like supporting characters from Alice in Wonderland, one day they can feel tiny, the next they feel huge. One day they look like twins, the next they barely feel like friends. Sometimes they’re like your own personal set of cushions – and sometimes, they hurt.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Why is this happening?

A lot of people find that their boobs are a bit sore, achy or tender in the lead up to their period. It can be a warm-up act before the main event, like the other symptoms of PMS.

While the exact cause is unknown (helpful, science) it’s thought be due to the changing levels of your hormones at that point in your cycle. Just before your period, your progesterone production peaks and your breast lobules (milk ducts, although ‘lobules’ is much more fun to say) might expand. As they swell, your nerves may have to stretch themselves a bit longer than normal, which could make your breasts feel a little on the tender side.

If you haven’t started your period yet, don’t panic if you have a tingling sensation or an aching in your chest, this is probably just your breast buds developing. Woo-hoo!

How long will it last?

Most women find that their breasts start feeling a little sore one to three days before their period starts, and generally go back to normal by the time they finish riding the crimson wave.

TL;DR? Here's the important stuff:
  • Breathe, it’s actually super common. More common than perfectly symmetrical breasts, in fact.
  • During puberty, it’s likely that one will develop faster than the other. They’ll probably continue to grow at different speeds throughout your teenage years, and most adult women still have one that is bigger than the other.
  • This shouldn’t affect your life in any way other than making bras shopping a bit more of a puzzle. But always buy the size that fits your bigger side, as a general rule of thumb. Or boob.

Is there anything I can do to ease the ache?

Some people find that cutting back on salt, sugar, caffeine and dairy helps, so you could give that a go if your boobs are being a real pain in the… er, chest. Comfort-wise, you may find that wearing a good supportive bra, such as a sports bra, helps to minimise the aching, and it will stop things jiggling about any more than is strictly necessary.

Lots of women say that regular exercise helps to fight their menstrual aches and pains. If you find running is a sore-boob nightmare (bounce factor), why not try cycling or walking? After all, you’re already wearing a sports bra.

If your boobs are super painful and playing on your mind, don’t panic. But do step away from Google. Over-the-counter painkillers might help (ask an adult and always follow the packet instructions), or just try giving your boobs a few days while your period finishes.

If they’re still feeling really sore, or if you just want to check what’s what, maybe head to your GP for a chat.

So I’m not dying?

Almost definitely not. You’re just going through the rabbit-hole of puberty. But hey, at least there’s cake.

 

The greatest thing about having boobs is being able to touch them whenever you like. Feeling a bit down? Just grab your boobs. Feeling needy? Grab your boobs. Bored? Grab your boobs.

But grabbing your boobs isn’t quite the same as feeling your boobs to check all is in order. You’ve probably seen all the adverts and viral posts on Twitter and Facebook detailing how to properly check your boobs for anything that might seem a bit off. Really good for adults who are at risk of breast cancer, right? Give it a quick RT or share so your Auntie Val in Scotland is aware of the signs then keep scrolling…

DING DING DING. RED ALERT. SIRENS WAIL. LOCKDOWN COMMENCES.

Wrong. No. EVERYONE should check their boobs, whether they’re 44, 74, or 14 – because you never know when something might appear, just like it did for me.

Yes, my name is Louise and I found a lump in my boob.

I was barely out of my teens when I ran to my mum’s bedroom wide-eyed, toothbrush dangling from my mouth, and both hands clutched on my left tit. I have a habit of flashing my boobs or bum to people (I blame my Nan, she loves showing people – namely my boyfriend – the scars on her hips from her many operations, she isn’t shy) but this time was different.

“Ere’s a fing in ma oob,” I said.

“Excuse me?” Mum replied, taking the toothbrush from my mouth.

“There’s a thing in my boob.”

I grabbed her hand and pressed her fingers on my nipple, moving them around a bit. She frowned. “Definitely something there. I’ll get you an appointment for tomorrow.” And that was that.

My mum’s a secretary to a breast surgeon, which was incredibly handy. She doesn’t fluster. She knows that symptoms can mean anything – unlike Google, which screams ‘DEATH!’ any time you search ‘my toe hurts’ or ‘my bum’s itchy’.

Regardless, I Googled ‘types of boob lumps’, which Mum specifically told me not to do. I knew that breast cancer would come up first. I knew that breast cancer charities, support groups, and frickin’ funeral planners would be thrown in my face, but I kept my eyes firmly on the NHS website.

There were so many things this lump right under my nipple could be. A breast abscess, a breast cyst, benign lumps or, of course, breast cancer. All of these I’d heard of but another diagnosis sounded more fancy than the others: Fibroadenoma.

Fibroadenomas were described on the NHS website as, “smooth, well-rounded solid lumps of tissue that sometimes develop outside the milk ducts. They are particularly common in young women.”

Bingo. That must have been me.

(Sidenote: I do not recommend Googling symptoms – it’s much better going to see your GP!)

The next day, Mum and I saw her surgeon for a proper examination. He was a small, old guy who I’d known for years and the thought of him touching my tits seemed a bit… weird. But I told myself that this is his literal job. He does this all the time. I just wish his hands weren’t so cold.

He confirmed the lump and instantly told me that there was nothing to worry about. HOW DID HE KNOW? JUST FROM FEELING IT? IS HE A WIZARD? But he told me the lump, which was very likely a fibroadenoma (smug Lou here felt so smug indeed), was quite large so may have to be surgically removed.

“How many times do you check your breasts?” he asked.

“Mmmm, when you say check…”

“So, never.”

“…”

He was bemused as to how I hadn’t noticed this lump before as it was QUITE LARGE, but I quoted the NHS website back to him and said fibroadenomas are sometimes referred to as ‘breast mice’ because they easily move around so it was probably hidden. He gave me a (well deserved) lecture on how to check my boobs anyway.

After an ultrasound and biopsy to solidify diagnosis, I had the operation and, during it, the surgeon found two lumps. A smaller was hiding behind the bigger. Peekaboob.

They both had to be removed, tested for malignancy (cancer) for protocol then destroyed, so I couldn’t keep them in a jar. Boo. I had a six-month then yearly check up and was signed off. Done and dusted. Who knew finding a breast lump could be so normal, so simple?

I’ve got a crackin’ scar now around my left nipple. I don’t tell people I was bitten by a shark, I tell them I had lumps in my boob. That shocks them more because “YOU’RE SO YOUNG???”  – and maybe, just maybe, hopefully, it’ll encourage them to check their own boobs more often.

@louisejonesetc

Check out the Coppafeel site for more tips and advice on getting to grips with your boobs.

A lot of teens worry about the fact that they don’t have boobs yet.

I spent many a PE class reassuring one of my friends that just because she had a chest like an ironing board, it didn’t mean that it’d stay that way forever – and that even if it did, it didn’t matter, because Sian Hughes from the year above didn’t have big boobs either and she was the living embodiment of the heart-eyes emoji. AA-cup anxiety affected a fair chunk of the girls in my year, and I was always sympathetic. It’s no fun having a body that won’t behave the way you want it to.

But that being said, I found it hard to really empathise with the flat-chested girls… because boobs exploded out of my chest at 11 like a puberty bomb had gone off inside me, and nothing has been the same since.

I’m not exaggerating. It happened overnight. My auntie went away for a week during boobageddon and her first words when she came through the door were “Where did those come from?!”. The training bra I’d been wearing for a month or so was a little loose on the Tuesday but wouldn’t do up on the Wednesday. I had to wear one of my mum’s blouses to school because my school shirt didn’t do up over my newly boobalicious body.

Not having a bra to control my brand new bosoms, I spent the rest of the week walking around with my arms crossed so that they didn’t bounce away from me and take out a passing cyclist. First thing on Saturday, my mum and I went to Debenhams to get me fitted for a proper bra; I’d gone from an AA to a B cup in five days.

Initially, I was delighted. I bought the prettiest bras I could find and spent ages dancing around in front of the mirror in them. I had a sleepover with my friends and let them try them on, stuffing the empty cups with loo roll. I doled out sage advice to schoolmates because, as I now had breasts, I was clearly a more mature and worldly person. It was wonderful.

Until it wasn’t. Not only did my boobs arrive in a spectacular and sudden fashion, they also decided that they quite liked it out in the great wide world – and so they kept growing. And growing. And growing.

By the time I was 15, I was an F Cup. I had been taken aside by a PE teacher and quietly told I might want to buy a sports bra. My friends who had smaller boobs were able to wear strappy or bandeau tops because they didn’t need to worry about a bra, whereas if I went braless I felt like my boobs had a mind of their own, energetically swing-dancing away with each other as I walked down the street.

amy-boobs

My boobs also made me a target for bullies. I once overheard a girl in a geography lesson telling a boy I fancied that the only reason I had big boobs was because I was so chubby – that they weren’t real boobs, they were “just extra fat”. I wish I could go back to that lesson and ask her two things – firstly, what did it matter if I was chubby? Secondly, what the hell did she think boobs were? Newsflash: they’re made of fat! Not special glamorous rainbow fat – the same stuff we have on our thighs and our tummies and all over our bodies. Ridiculous.

But there were good points about having big boobs, too. My mum took me to the grown-up shops to find clothes that fit my new body, so I ended up in adult fashion that my friends wouldn’t get their hands on for years. And some of those clothes looked great on me – true, I avoided boob tubes, but no-one in my year could fill out a vintage 50s dress like I did.

These days I’m a size GG, although I’ve been as big as a J cup. My bra size goes up and down depending on my weight, where in my menstrual cycle I am, and sometimes just because they feel like it. I spent years worrying about my boobs when I was a teenager, but as an adult we’ve become friends. I treat them to expensive, well-fitting bras and in return get to look amazing in a V-neck shirt.

Also, there’s no denying that boobs are kind of nice. They’re squishy and soft and warm, and the weight of them on my chest has been oddly comforting when doing scary new things, like starting a new school or going on my first date. They’re an excellent place to store your keys/lipbalm/phone, and occasionally I drop my lunch down there and it becomes a delicious surprise afternoon snack.

My breast size doesn’t make me more or less attractive than anyone else and I’d have a whole host of different challenges and perks (lol) if I was flat chested. Whether your boobs are big or small doesn’t make you better or worse, it just makes you different.

Now, I love my boobs. I love the way they jiggle when I’m dancing with my friends, and I give the cuddliest hugs because I have what is essentially two enormous pillows strapped to my front. They keep me warm in winter and act as handy flotation devices when I’m swimming in summer.

And I still think no-one looks better in a 50s-style dress than me.

@jimsyjampots

Image: Katie Edmunds

Guys, we have to get something off our chests.

Yep, we’re talkin’ about boobs.

CoppaFeel has launched its brilliant #GetItoffYourChest campaign, to educate young women and men about the signs and symptoms of breast cancer. Which, despite what many people believe, doesn’t always mean a lump. Leaky nip? Weird rash? Puckered skin? It’s probably NBD, but it’s a good idea to pop into your GP and have a chat just to check everything is A-ok.

Featuring Fearne Cotton, Fleur De Force, Tom and Giovanna Fletcher, Nick Grimshaw and a parade of other famouses, the video explains why it’s important to really get to know your chesticles. Make friends, take them out for milkshakes, write them a haiku.

That way, if anything ever goes tits-up, you’ll be the first to know.

Have you ever been really excited for Christmas or a birthday because you think you’re getting a particular present… but then you get something totally different, or (even worse) nothing at all?

Well, that’s how it can feel when all your friends and the girls in your class have big boobs and you don’t. Emotionally, as well as literally, flat.

It’s completely natural to feel a bit disappointed and left out when you hit your mid-teens and have small boobs when everyone else seems to be buying new bras, talking in cup-size code and wearing low cut tops. It can feel like they’re all part of a secret club, and you didn’t get invited.

Gretchen Weiners

But it’s easy to forget that we all come in different shapes and sizes. And every one of those shapes and sizes is perfectly natural and fine.

Sure, there are things about having big boobs that small-boobed sisters like you and me don’t get to talk about. Like how much we can store in our cleavage. Which celebrity has the same cup size as them. Um. The fact that big boobs can cause back pain. Wait – maybe it’s not all hunky-dory for those with big boobs either?

Glee relieved face

Truth is, there are just as many awesome things about being smaller up top too. (Shh, just don’t tell your big-boobed friends.)

Here are some of the reasons that having small boobs really isn’t a big deal. Like, at all.

1. You can go trampolining and running with ease

Jennifer Lawrence running on chat show

Bouncing up and down, running, dancing… in fact, most kinds of exercise can be easier when you have small boobs. That doesn’t mean you should skip buying a good sports bra, but you don’t need to find one with loads of rock-solid support or wear two at once like – yep – some other girls do.

2. You’ll never experience under-boob sweat.

Too hot gif

Because armpit sweat is annoying enough.

3. You have lots of small-boobed role models.

Gwen Stefani

Gwen Stefani, Kate Moss, Natalie Portman, Zoe Saldana, Kate Hudson – all proof you don’t need big boobs to be famous and awesome.

4. Shopping is (mostly) easier.

I'll take everything

Ok, so tops might not always fit perfectly and strapless dresses might not always look exactly like you thought they would in your head (although nine times out of ten, they’ll look great). But there are so many styles that look good, and you don’t have to worry about buttoning them up, falling out of them or buying an impossible secret invisible bra. Spree time!

5. You won’t get boob-related pain

HoneyBooBoo awesome gif

That’s right, you don’t have to worry about back pain. Not from boobs, anyway. In fact you might even have better posture over time, as nothing is weighing you down.

6. Things fit better (without any awkwardness)

Bette Davis seatbelts comment

Seatbelts, cross body bags, guitars and being strapped into, well, anything really.

7. You can sleep on your stomach

sleeping

You don’t have to position yourself so your boobs don’t get in the way, which means way more nighttime poses to choose from – and maybe fewer sleepless nights too.

8. They might change over time.

Joey sand boobs

Loads of women find that their boobs change as they get older. This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t learn to love them just as they are, though – you totally should. But they might get bigger. They might change shape.

And they might not, but that’s where learning to love them comes in.

9. Bra shopping is (mostly) easier…

Lauren Conrad too easy

Yes it can be daunting to buy bras when you feel like your boobs are too small. But hear me out. Having small boobs means you can choose lovely dainty bralets, rather than bras built for support with lots of underwiring.

Think lacy and pretty. Simple and sporty. You can fake boobs with padding now and again if you want to try something new – or just embrace your A-cup realness. So much choice!

10. … And you can go braless whenever you want

New Girl boob unemployed

Sure you can wear a whole universe of different bras when you have small boobs… but you can go totally braless whenever you like too. In fact, we all can if we want to. Freedom!

@BeccaCaddy

Image: Hailey Hamilton