Darian 's Chest like the Rest Fund

   Hi my name is  Darian and as petty and/or vain as this fund I have set up may seem; I assure you it's 100% genuine. My longing for, not big, but proportionate breasts is genuine enough to me that I am willing to expose myself to the humility and scrutiny I know I will potentially face by creating this fund. Yet here I am, on the World Wide Web, vulnerable but hopeful, asking for assistance to allow me to attain breast augmentation surgery so that I can finally feel comfortable and be satisfied with my body.
   Let me start off by saying that I don't feel like this request is coming from a insecure place like most people might assume in a situation like this. Allow me to explain myself:
   I was born in a small ski resort town in Idaho. I'm sure many of you can guess which town in particular, but because if it's minute population, I'd rather not disclose the name at this time. I am the youngest of three and come from a family that was not very wealthy, especially when compared to the many millionaire's our community consists of. Long story short, I wasn't rich; no problem, I was happy and don't feel like my childhood was effected by this much, if at all. 
   When high school rolled around, I started to realize the importance of money and the commodities that came with it. Although we weren't able to keep up with "The Jones" so to speak, we made do, and were grateful for it. I guess you could say that while we weren't wealthy or even rich, my parents some how did what they could to appease our expensive trends and lifestyles that our peers so effortlessly created. To summarize my point, I never really remember wanting anything during that time in my life. Somehow, all my desires were fulfilled. I still to this day don't know how my parents were able to pull that off, and looking back, I almost wish they wouldn't have, crux being told no makes one that much stronger. But nonetheless, that wasn't the case and I was a fortunate kid in that manner.
   I'm sharing this because I want to bring up an important point eventually. One that links back to my breast (or lack there of). You see, in middle school and high school, I was never one of the "cute girls". I hung out w/ the cool kid crews; always. Mainly because I was the clown and or life of the party. No boys ever desired me, and I don't think I really cared cuz I was one of the boys. I hung w/ the girls, but they were too dramatic and caddy for me, I always have and still do, prefer men over women when it comes to any type of relationship (i.e. sexual, platonic, etc). 
   Actually, I was the last of all my girlfriends to hit puberty and the last to lose my virginity as well. I just wasn't perceived by others as a sexual person and because of that I didn't see myself in a sexual aspect either. But I made up for it because I was cool. I was a rebel, but Vice President of my class. A trouble maker, but first chair clarinet in band. A party girl, but a B+/A student. Known by the local police, but praised by the Principle almost daily.
   Point being this, I feel like pretty girls that have always been lookers, cheerleaders, homecoming queens, have always had a crutch. They got by on their looks starting at a young age and most often continued to do so throughout their adult lives.
   I however, wasn't cute in my younger years; or at least I didn't want or allow myself to be. It wasn't until I started college and moved away from the small town status quos that I realized I was kinda good looking. By then of course, I was established in who I was and what I stood for. Which brings me to my main point of this extensive story:
   I don't really care about materialistic things like fancy clothes, name brand sunglasses, or flashy cars. I don't even know how to spell Monolo Blanc(?) or who that is. I don't care which celebrity is doing what or the latest movies or tv shows are. I think all woman, all people rather, are beautiful in their own way. I try to be kind to everyone, but most importantly I strive to live a life of integrity. All I can do is live a life I'm proud of, because I know that at the end of the day, the only person I have to answer to is myself.
   I know getting fake boobs won't buy me happiness. But I also know that I love who I am. Are fake boobs going to complete me? Of course not. Are they going to make me a better of worse person? Hard to say actually.... I have seen that happen before and usually for the worse. Haha. I'm truly not too worried about that happening w/ me, but I am aware that it can, has, and does though.
   I want breast so that I can find bikini tops that fit without searching through Vikki's Secret, buying some under wired one, only to find it still doesn't fit when it arrives. One of my girlfriends I've had my whole life always gave me a hard time for wanting fake breasts. It wasn't until last year, probably 15 yrs after knowing her, that she saw me trying on bikini tops and she said she finally understood why I would want boobs. 
   When I lie on my back, they go away. If I don't wear a padded underwire bra, they don't exist. Which is why you'll never see me in a halter top, strapless dress, or anything that I can't wear a bra with. Why not strapless you might ask? Cuz I have nothing to fill out a strapless bra with.... It's basically just a gap.
   So there you have it ladies and gentlemen. My story. I want fake boobs for me. Because I know that I am a strong woman and I know who I am. I know that I am beautiful, have great legs, and bit of a beer belly, and a deep voice. And I embrace these things. 
   However, I also know that I won't compromise my morals and/or standards by deceiving some rich man so I can swindle a boob job out of him and then toss him out like trash. That's just not something I'm capable of and I am proud to admit that.
   So I figure if some girl can get wasted enough on her birthday that she didn't realize or remember that she agreed to take an Uber home during a 9% surcharge rate, which left her unable to pay her rent until she raised the money on Gofundme.com. Then hey, maybe people will have enough sympathy, money, empathy, or compassion to help me achieve my dream as well. Because I think it's safe to say that as a 30 yr old cocktail waitress, the odds of saving enough money to pay for them alone aren't getting any bigger....and neither are my less than A cup boobs.  :-D