My Left Boob

(can we show the *female* nipple here?)

This is not a trick, it’s the true power of my Left boob.

My left boob had a meteoric rise and fall. Wait. I shouldn’t call Left Boob mine as it emancipated itself at a very young age. When I was 16 Left Boob came into full being with great enthusiasm and loft. I immediately fell in love with it. I brought it with me everywhere and exposed it whenever and to whomever I could, always with awe and respect. Those who were lucky enough to flabberwobber Left Boob across their faces, told me it was one of the greatest wonders they had ever beheld. And then, like a Buddhist sand mandala, that was it: it gave up the ghost. The weight of the world was too much for Left Boob to contend with, so Left Boob bowed its head with grace and dignity and tried to devote itself to a life of listening.

But I had other plans for Left Boob.

As much as I tried to respect its desire to live off-grid, I was a little surprised it could only hold its own weight for a couple of years. I mean, I had prayed for Left Boob’s birth. I had waited and waited for Left Boob to reveal itself. I felt it owed me more than a flash in the pan. No, I said, YOU are in charge of the pan! I can’t let you go down without a fight. I was just shy of twenty when Left Boob held its first aluminum sauce pan with no help from me.

After that I saw Left Boob’s potential so I put Left Boob through twenty five years of grueling training under Hormone. Hormone forced Left Boob to grow and shrink to unimaginable sizes. But there was more: Hormone—(Reader, brace yourself)—Hormone got Left Boob to produce a kind of milk that some felt was the sweetest nectar known to humankind.

(Reader, reserve your judgment about my unconventional training methods, because if you had seen the magnificent feats that Hormone got boob to do…well, let me just give this one example: with the gentlest of nudges, Left Boob’s milk nectar could spray in multiple directions from countless tiny portals in Left Boob’s nipple. And from these cosmic portals, Left Boob nourished two humans that were born from the same body that Left Boob grew from, and also Left Boob fed some other humans that had sprung from other bodies.

When Hormone weakened and had to retire, Left Boob was deflated. Would there be no more training? Left Boob wondered. I realized in that moment I had created a monster. I had created my own worst enemy: a workaholic.

Let’s just hang out, I said, Fuck Hormone. But Left boob dragged on and on and on about “goals” and “optimization” and “feeding the beast” (by which I suspect Left Boob meant you all).

I felt I couldn’t abandon Left Boob after all it had done for me, so I took Left Boob to the seat of civilization and trained it to hold the biggest cooking pan in this mortal realm.

Hey Readers, listen: if you want to join me on my next writing (and yoga) retreat —I have a few rooms left. All private en suite. Delicious food. Amazing nature. Writing salons, prompts, feedback, Q&A, great yoga with the best of the best, Nikki Vilella. And get this: if you are a paid subscriber you’ll get $150 off (that would make it only $1700, all included).

Jan 16-20. Rensselaerville, NY. And guess what will happen on Inauguration Day besides the obvious? Left Boob will come out and play! xoxoxoxo (email me to claim your discount). Love, Alex.