My breasts are the bane of my life, I look at situations and the problems I have with humour, as this is the only way I managed to cope with them.

At the age of nine I developed boobs, breasts did not even come into it. I had a teacher haul me in front of the class and tell me if I did not get a bra, I would not be welcome back in the class. I was devastated, up to this point I had not even noticed.

Time went on to high school, the boys pointing and laughing making fun of my boobs, on the whole I was oblivious to it, I had put up with teasing and my mother trying to dress me in tents for years.

The one thing that kept my breast hidden over the years was weight, the more weight I carry the less uncomfortable my back, neck and breasts are. I still have vivid memories of being 18 and wearing a custom made bra. I was once a size 10 with 24DD breasts. Over the years I have welcomed "going south".

I think the most difficult thing to deal with was as I got older was sport. I went from a very active regional representative to a virtual couch potato. I use to ride horses competitively until it became so uncomfortable I had permanent bruises and muscle damage during the season. I can no longer run, the closest I can relate this is having 20 pounds of lead strapped to your genitals. The analogy makes men wince but they then realise what a serious problem this is.

I spend a great deal of my time Flyfishing; I have a group of people I go out with that are professionals. I give them an understanding that I cannot physically tuck my elbow in. They understand that a bra is an encumbrance that may give me a bench top to work on but also a persistent backache, which in turn disables me on the river. One of these guides, whom I fish with, took this to heart and made a couple of female clients take off their bras while learning. Even though they first thought he was a pervert they learnt very quickly why he had asked.

There have been some humorous instances, like the poor man I hit in the eye and gave him a black eye in a nightclub. There was the unflappable who was "flapped" when I said time to go and hitched up my bra straps. I have built a defence revolving around candidness.

Unfortunately humour doesn't help with the physical pain and the 3-month osteopathic treatment every 12 months, the difficulty in finding clothes that fit my chest. Even though I am on 5ft 2 inches, I am also long waisted so men's shirts are the norm; mid riff shirts are something I have nightmares about. I catch food; I have water stains on my clothes when cleaning. I can't ride a cycle. They do depress me, they stop me from getting fit and healthy, and it is much easier to hide than push through the pain and embarrassment for the sake of fitness.

I am tired of " hey slut with the big tits" being shouted at me by teenagers impressing their mates. I have kids almost their age. I want what everyone else wants and a majority get. I want to be pain free, and fit; I want to know that in 30 years I wont have a hunchback. I want to run and skip and play with my kids. I want my life assurance company not to load my insurance because I have a 52-inch chest.

Most of all I want people to see me for me, not how far down my cleavage can they see.