Hi, I’m Mary, and this is my column no one asked for about things I like!

Earlier today, I was trying to remember if there was ever a time in my life when I imagined I’d grow up to have big tits, but I can’t recall ever thinking that was a possibility for me. My mother was small-chested, a fact which she brought up constantly, so I knew I wasn’t genetically predestined to have giant knockers. In fact, very few women in my family have big guns (no offense — you’re all gorgeous!).

On top of that, I was a fat kid, so I never thought anything about my body had the potential to ever be attractive. Until I was a teenager, I thought best case scenario I’d grow up to look like Rosie O’Donnell — and I was fine with that! I loved Rosie. I watched her show every single day! She was funny and famous and in all of my favorite movies (Sleepless in Seattle and A League of Their Own). Who wouldn’t want to be Rosie?

Things changed just after my 13th birthday, however, when I grew two inches and lost 20 pounds within the span of a few months. My mother had cancer at the time, but it was still the best summer of my life! (JK I was depressed and didn’t eat.) I still remember catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror one day that summer and noticing something I’d never seen before: cheekbones. I was shocked. As a fat girl, I had always figured I’d grow up to be a fat woman. Even in my wildest fantasies, I thought if I somehow managed to lose the weight that had burdened me my whole life, there’s no way I would be pretty underneath all that chub.

I once told a friend this (while drunk at a club) and he said it was sad. I tried to explain to him that it wasn’t sad at all but was, in fact, the opposite. Because I wasn’t pretty, because I accepted that I would never be pretty, I realized I had a lot of other things going for me and that those things had value. I was smart and funny and people generally liked me (except for the ones who bullied me for being fat, but even they seemed to find me amusing at times). I had good hair. I wasn’t ever going to be pretty, but I was always going to be a whole lot of other, more important things.

But then I turned 13 and my mom got cancer and I grew and stopped eating for awhile and suddenly I could see how I might one day be kind of attractive. Now, a decade (or two) later, I’m very comfortable with my looks. Some days I’m even (almost) comfortable with my body. While I know I’m attractive (you probably think I’m such a bitch now!), I’m certainly no supermodel. I’m 5’1″, I’ve got short, stubby legs and at least one part of my childhood prophecy came true: I have very small little titties.

Sure, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have big gazungas just as I wondered as a child what it would be like to be one of the pretty girls: it’s a passing thought so far out of my realm of possibility I dismiss it as soon as it occurs to me. At this point in my life, I think having big old jugs would be fun for exactly one day, then be completely exhausting. In fact, I kind of like having little boobs. My large-chested friends often complain about carrying around these giant sacks on their bodies that hurt their backs and attract the unwanted attention of random men. Plus, if I had bigger boobs, I’d have to wear real bras, and that’s something I stopped doing years ago.

In my teens and early 20s, I wore push-up bras from J. Crew and Victoria’s Secret. They had underwires and tons of padding to make my boobs look much bigger than they were. Everyone I knew wore those bras, so I thought wearing a garment that made your tits look 50% bigger was just part of being a woman.

Then, a few years ago the bralet craze hit and it suddenly became cool to let your boobs hang down around your belly button. I had stopped wearing tight clothes years before, so I figured I’d try out one of these little training bras under a nice loose t-shirt. My sister directed me to Brook There. I amassed a small collection of their Triangle Bras, including this one, which I still wear. While I loved these bras and grew to like how they supported my little titties while allowing them to look like their tiny selves, they’re a little pricey.

So when my favorite store Madewell launched an intimates line, I was eager to try out their similar but lower priced bras. And guess what — they’re great! I have this one, this one, this one and this one, which is completely invisible, even under a sheer white t-shirt. They’re cute, a little bit sexy, incredibly comfortable and supportive. The best part is that it’s easy to find a sale at Madewell, so if you pay attention, you can scoop up a few bras that’ll scoop up your boobs for a bargain price.

I’ll buy Madewell bras as long as they make them, and I’m also excited that J. Crew has relaunched an intimates line. I bought some of my first bras from them, so when I saw they were making underwear again, I immediately ordered this even though I’m a broke dog walker in no position to be spending any money on anything. I couldn’t help myself — it’s so cute!

As a little-tittied woman, I’m just glad that after the 90s Pamela Anderson soccer ball boob craze, small, natural breasts that hang low on the chest are in again. As far as I’m concerned, the lower the tits, the more fashionable the woman — mostly because I never want to wear an uncomfortable underwire bra ever again. Let ’em hang low, girls! You’ll look great!

As always, I’d like to clarify that this is NOT a sponsored post. I received nothing for it and am pretty sure no one cares about my little titties. Still, if anyone is reading and ever wants to give me literally anything for free, breast-related or not, I WILL TAKE IT!!!!!!

Anyway, I hope this was helpful. I’ll be back with more unsolicited recommendations soon!