I was taking Algebra in school and hated it. I also didn’t like the teacher saying ‘One day your life may depend on your ability to perform simple calculations’.

I lived with my Mom and Gram on a farm. There’s just the three of us and we keep the place running. Some of the fields have been rented out to nearby farms, but we have enough left over for pasture and growing our own food. We plant a big garden and have an Apple orchard, too. Everyday it’s up early to feed the chickens and milk the cows, then the cows are let out to pasture. The hogs are slopped in the evening and in between there is weeding the garden, pruning trees as needed and other work to keep us all occupied. As I am the youngest I get to do a lot of the stuff that Mom and Gram can’t. I don’t complain and it’s actually a lot of fun.

When I was 14 years old I weighed 95 pounds and stood 5 feet tall. I desperately wanted to grow. I was a size 14 and hoped that I could get some bigger kids clothes. With a 32 inch chest, a 24 inch waist and 32 and a half inch hips, I looked forward to further developing. Mom said I had a nice figure and even tormented me by measuring me for a bra.

After her measurements were done, she did the math. She actually used Algebra and thought it was funny. Funny to her because I was taking Algebra in school and hated it. I also didn’t like the teacher saying ‘One day your life may depend on your ability to perform simple calculations’. My English teacher would have enjoyed the irony of those two pieces of my life. Mom finished her calculations and pronounced that I was a size 34A bra. This set her off laughing and that brought in Gram. When she heard mom laughing, she wanted to know why and she laughed too after mom told her.

When it was time for new clothes, they both offered to buy me my first bra. I declined the offer as gracefully as I could. However, soon my family knew about it and then friends of mom and Gram. You can figure out what happened next. Yup, joke time for all. I spent the school year with my face stuck in a book afraid to look at anybody.

When I needed new clothes, I made sure that I kept mom away from the Bra aisle. But somehow, she’d manage to maneuver us towards the lingerie. She even suggested matching panties. As much as this hurt my feelings, if mom had treated it differently I might have relented and gotten different underwear. My regular underwear were getting uncomfortable and some of the newer styles were more form fitting. They resembled the Speedo bathing suits that hugged the hips and were worn off the waist. I looked, but said nothing. The rest of my clothing could have easily been worn by either a boy or a girl. I saw a lot of the girls buying boys and men’s jeans. When mom would mention that, I’d still avoid a bra.

Ask any parent and they’ll tell you that all kids outgrow everything as soon as it’s bought. Shoes, shirts, pants, whatever it is, kids outgrow it before the tag comes off. I was no different and continued to grow. At 15, I was 5 feet 3 inches and 110 pounds. By age 16, I was 5 feet 6 inches and almost 120 pounds, and then when I hit 17 years old, I was 5 feet 7 inches tall and 126 pounds. I thought I looked good. Mom measured me and I was 34 inches in the chest, mom had measured me at the nipple line. I also had a 26 inch waist and 35 inches for hips. I was a bowling pin. Mom took another measurement at what she called the ‘band line’ and said that was 32 inches. Mom was just doing the measurement to kid me, but said the numbers weren’t right. She had Gram check and the numbers were the same.

Mom told me that the numbers showed that I was a 34B bra size. I laughed at her and said I was just getting some muscles. She just smiled that mom smile and poked her finger on my chest. It hurt. The flesh was not firm, but soft and movable. Well ok, it jiggled a little. Mom actually squeezed it and that caused a lot of pain. Then mom did something that was completely crazy. Without saying anything, she took off her blouse. She stood there in her bra looking at me. She took my hand and placed it on her bra and proceeded to tell me all about bras and wearing them. She even took it off and handed it to me. I was too stunned to talk. I just took it from her hands. She said she was a 34C and to try it on.

I held it up and looked at it then at mom. She smiled and took it out of my hands and under her direction I was soon wearing a bra. I actually had to admit that my chest felt better. The bra was a little big, but not too big. With the shoulder straps adjusted for my size, my chest felt better. Also my shirt didn’t rub against my nipples and irritate them. That night mom took me shopping.

So that’s it. That’s the story of how I wore my first bra. Now I wear one all of the time. Well most of the time. I use a Sports Bra as needed and I have learned about push-up, underwire and demi bras too. I’m not an expert so don’t ask technical questions. I’m just a normal 17 year old girl trying to live a normal life.