My first bra

I remember painstakingly waiting for the day my Mum would take me to get my first bra, in my eyes it was going to be one of the best days of my life. I was so excited even anticipating the idea; I had waited not weeks nor months to get there, but years. Yes I was that kid in school, you know, last one in class to get a bra.
My best friends and seemingly everyone else in my class had begun getting theirs in Grade 6; but oh not me, I was half way through form 3 or year 9 as it’s now known. The white Bonds singlets we had worn to keep warm became the white singlets I used to cover up the fact that I didn’t have a bra. The sports days that I once relished became the days I most dreaded and the girls change room became my worst nightmare. Every week I looked around the room and it seemed that someone else had a new pretty bra. Why couldn’t it be me, I used to think to myself.
My day finally rolled around though, but it wasn’t day that I had romanticized in my mind. There was no getting in the car, no shopping centre and certainly no beautiful lingerie store. No what I got was my mother presenting me with a crumpled up used brown paper bag and a, “here you go”.
I opened the bag a looked in and to my horror there it was, a daggy white cotton bra, it was simply the ugliest bra I had ever seen. I was mortified. It wasn’t new and it sure wasn’t the pretty one I had been imagining. There was no way I could allow any of my friends see this. I had waited and waited all this time and all I got was this white cotton hand me down. I couldn’t believe my luck; now that I finally had one, I needed to cover it up with my Bonds singlet because it was so damned ugly, in my eyes I just couldn’t win.
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