Stretch Marks

For starters, I've been busy painting.  And the rest of the time I've been tending to a 3 month old and an almost-2 year old.  Hillster is being quiet and sleepy right now and I have some stuff to do so I've got to make this quick.

This morning after feeding the baby, she fell asleep and I looked down at my boobs.  I examined the old stretch marks from 18 years ago (I believe I first got them in 6th grade which would mean I was 12.  I will be 30 in a few days, so..).  These days since I'm pale as a ghost you can't really see them, but if I pull at the skin and lift it, I can see that the elasticity is gone in those now-silver stripes.  It's so f*cked up- especially since I never ever had big boobs.  Like, my B cups must have developed overnight to get stretch marks like these.  I also got acne.  So stretch mark- ridden boobs and a face full of acne = recipe for high self esteem, no?  I feel  lucky that I didn't get stretch marks during either pregnancy.  My SIL (the crazy one) got them all over her belly and she looked like a tiger.  I do not like her, but boy do I know the woes of stretch marks.  She probably had them all over her boobs in puberty but, unlike me, she is about a size DD cup.

I do not remember the moment I noticed I had stretch marks, but I do remember looking down at my basically flat chest and thinking, 'WHAT THE F*CK?'  They were ALL OVER.  Dark purple lines.  There was no internet for me to Google what was going on (although I do recall knowing they were stretch marks) and I had no clue how long they'd be there.  At 12, I wasn't even close to not being prude, so I wasn't concerned about a boy seeing them.  Nor was I wearing revealing clothing or bathing suits or getting naked with my female friends, so this burden was pretty much mine to carry alone in secret.  I assume that other girls around that time also had stretch marks, but there was no support group and I also assume they were as embarrassed about their stretch marks as I was about mine.  I never breathed a word about them to anyone, nor did anyone breathe a word about theirs to me.  How nice would it have been to have known that you weren't alone? That these would fade and that for generations girls in puberty had been looking down at their awkward and sh*tty bodies and assuming that nobody else was dealing with something so atrocious.  I remember on a field trip in 6th grade, the class slut was sitting in the row next to me on the bus (she was in the three-seater).  2 guys who were both her boyfriend for the day were on either side of her.  She had her shirt up and her bra off (or she just wasn't wearing one) and the 2 boys were taking turns feeling her boobs as she sat there and the whole class was looking on.  All I could think was, 'She doesn't have stretch marks.  I must be the only one.'  I felt pure envy. (Disclaimer: Not at her ability to be a huge whore.  Just at her clear-skinned chest.  I've never been one for group s*ex, I suppose.)

I don't remember when exactly they faded to the beautiful Christmas-y silver lines that they are today.  

I've read that stretch marks can be genetic.  The type of skin, I guess?  With 2 daughters, I am totally going to make sure they know I had them and that they fade.  And then I will apologize profusely for giving them these genes.  If they don't get them, I will ensure that they count their lucky stars.