It’s always awkward to start a new blog. This happens to be my first real one, so please, go easy on me. Well, introductions to anything usually start with some names. My name--is irrelevant in this case, but I’m sure someone’s bound to figure out what it is. What I do want to tell you is that I’m the odd one out in my family. Typical? Maybe. But I find my story to be a pretty interesting one.
Let’s see, I’d say it all started the day I was born--no exaggeration here people, I was the baby that had to be C-sectioned out of my mother. I came along after my older sister of three years who gave my mom an easy pain-less (more like knife-less) vaginal delivery. Sorry mom. My sister and I grew up as two skinny-minis. Some family friends would gravely ask our parents if we were malnourished. Some crazies went as far as using the word “anorexic” around us. We were neither, we both just happened to be invested in all types of sports and were born with high metabolism but we were perfectly healthy.
Skipping a decade or so in life, my older sister stayed skinny, petite, small-boned, 5’0” and about 91 pounds. My body, on the other hand, had different plans in store. The one thing that kept my sister and me from being the same was our chest sizes. Mine kept growing along with my height while hers stopped at a 32A cup. At age 16, I was 5’3”, 94 pounds and carrying around 32B sized boobs. My sister and I would always get mixed up for who was the older sibling. That frustrated her, and still does.
So, I know I only covered part of the reasons why I'm the oddest 1 out of my family. There's lots more to come. So for now,
--010 (oddest 1 out)
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