Deep Thoughts on Buying a Bra

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As moms, we typically take care of others first. But when my years-old bra began to feel more like a tank top, it was time to upgrade.  A dear friend once lovingly scorned me, “Lisa Weigard, YOU are a Domestic Engineer (a resume-worthy alternative to Homemaker), you should not be wearing hole-y socks’.  It’s true.  We do so much for every other person, and serve ourselves last.  So, while awaiting a phone upgrade, I inched into Victoria’s Secret with my dear daughter.  Instant overwhelm.  So many choices, textures, colors, strap arrangements, front clasp, rear clasp, bralettes…where to even begin.  Don’t judge, my heart literally began to race.  The last time I bought a bra was likely ten years prior, guessing my size from the Walmart rack.  So, I bravely grabbed a friendly store rep and she gently walked me thru the process.

 

Let’s start with measurements.  A tape measure circle here and another there brought a number and a letter that was clearly not my current selection.  Alarmingly, I believed I was four sizes too big and two cup sizes to small.  Shocked but not surprised my own guesses on size were so drastically off as women so often think they are larger or smaller than we truly are.  Size established, now what style?  Offering me three popular sizes to sample, neither were ones I would have picked myself, but I loved them!  I shrieked with delight when the sisters were in their proper place…the sample tee in the dressing room carried itself so much differently than my previous frame.  I had no idea the difference a good and properly sized bra could make on the fit of clothes but even more importantly, the inner smile of my soul.  I walked differently, I felt supported on so many levels.

 

Walking out with two new bras, I instantly had that infamous and unwelcome mom-guilt… something else more worthy could have been purchased for the kids.  But no… squashing that negative talk, it felt good to swing a little pink bag of happiness.

 

The next day however, beginning my morning routine, I reached past my new perky bras and pulled my old standard, poorly fitting, not quite white bra.  I wasn’t doing anything special that day, so I would just wear my old regular and save the new for another day.  Don’t we often go back to the old familiar? Offered a better solution, oftentimes we settle for less. A bra trashing was in order.  To assure that I wouldn’t go back to a bigger and unflattering fit, the old needed to go.  Their metal would no longer dig, their straps no longer slip. I deserved better.  It made me ponder…what else to do I settle for? What else limits me? If I felt this much better with a simple new bra, what other upgrades can I implement?  The bra was just the beginning.

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