Breasts: ‘two soft, protruding organs on the upper front of a woman’s body which secrete milk after childbirth.’
Whilst I’m certainly in no place to argue with the science of this definition, I can’t help but see a certain irony in its one-dimensionality. For me, this certainly doesn’t tell the whole story of the body part that has somewhat defined me for a good decade now. To give a more rounded perspective – pun intended – to someone who is not a possessor of these ‘protruding organs’, I thought I’d take you on a guided tour of my own personal boob journey.
A timeline of my boobs:
Year 5: Undoubtedly, I was an early developer. At the tender age of 9, some kind of bumps popped up on my chest and I was the first girl in the year to wear a ‘crop top’. I remember the kids pointing out the outline of it beneath my t-shirt in P.E., and the whispers and giggles that followed. Consequently, for the next couple of years, I refused to take off my jumper during sport and felt embarrassed getting changed in front of people. This is the first time I can recall feeling ashamed of my body.
Year 8: By this time, the mosquito bites had quite dramatically evolved into DDs. As the boys began to gawp, I stopped feeling ashamed. As I realised my boobs could be the source of a lot of attention and compliments, I started feeling pressure to ‘make the most’ of them. The jumper came off and I bought my first push-up bra.
Year 9: When I went to my new school, I began to be known as ‘the girl with big boobs’ and the attention from older boys came thick and fast. In the true style of modern day courting, boys would message me after school and ask me my bra size (men on Tinder still do this). My friend even told me that when explaining the difference between ‘fit’, ‘pretty’, and ‘sexy’, a boy had told her I was ‘sexy’ because I had big boobs. The push-up bra, low-cut tops, and sexy Facebook pictures had obviously worked. NAILED IT!
Year 10: I soon found out having big boobs didn’t always attract good attention. Whilst I was in a swimming lesson, a girl who was off P.E. took boys into the changing room to show them my football-holder of a bra. In parallel with my Year 5 experience, I felt like my boobs were some kind of artefact or circus attraction.
Year 11: Unlike all my friends who could fit into cute bras in Victoria’s Secret, I had to go to Bravissimo – a specialist shop for girls (well, predominantly women) with big ol’ mammary glands. Despite all the good press big boobs receive, their perceived sexiness was lost on me as I shopped for bras next to 60 year olds.
Year 12-13: As the Mayfair clubbing started, the tops got lower and shorts got shorter in a bid to get as much free Belvedere as possible. Sure, it worked, but did 17-year-old me feel empowered and in charge of my body and sexuality? Certainly not. Regrettably, in my pursuit for alcohol, I was allowing men to objectify and (occasionally) grope me.
1st-2nd Year at Bristol Uni: On a night out in Bristol, you are bound to see at least 20 girls in cute little halter necks… A look that only really works sans bra. I have tried this, and I have failed at this. If you’re a girl with sizeable boobs who loves a boogie, trust me when I say, this look ain’t for you (unless you’re into back pain and hoisting ‘em up all night). I no longer had what everyone wanted and, in all honesty, I had started to see my boobs as a bit of a burden; an obstacle in the way of me frolicking about all young, braless, and carefree. To make me feel even better, in Vogue’s December issue it was declared that, “The cleavage – those magnificent mounds pushed together to display sexual empowerment, to seduce, to inspire lust or even just to show off – is over, or at least, taking a well-earned break”. Evidently, my boobs are sooo not ‘fashun’.
I look back at that timeline and feel sad. I feel sad at the hyper-sexualisation of a body part I had absolutely no control over at such a young age. I feel sad that my boobs have always seemed to belong to the gaze of everyone except me. I feel sad that I live in a society run by a media that indoctrinates us with its seedy objectification of the female form (most recently embodied by the Daily Mail’s scrutiny of Theresa May and Nicola Sturgeon’s legs as opposed to their politics). Mostly, though, I feel sad at how I have fallen into the trap of either showing off or hiding my boobs in order to please others.
Unfortunately, it is not just me who has fallen into this trap. In fact, a substantial number of girls have been made to feel like their boobs are central to their worth. Whilst big boobs turn you into a sex object or a ‘slut’, smaller boobs are often ridiculed for being ‘boyish’ and ‘undesirable’. What’s more, it’s not even just about their size anymore. There’s pressure to have the perfect shape, perkiness, nipple size, no stretch marks – things that aren’t feasible for real life girls who have not been airbrushed or under the knife. Can we ever win?
Thankfully, having found the Body Positivity movement, I now refuse to believe my attractiveness or worthiness boil down to two lumps of fat on my chest. That’s not to say I’m not grateful for my own healthy boobs or in awe of the utter greatness of boobs because: 1) they are the main source of nourishment for little humans all over the world; 2) they’ve represented love and fertility in artwork and iconography since the beginning of time; 3) they’ve been used as a symbol of power in many feminist movements; and 4) they can definitely be sexy and beautiful. However, I am taking ownership of my boobs for the first time in my life. Sometimes, that means wearing a low cut top and taking a sexy selfie because I feel confident and empowered (sorry, Vogue). Sometimes, that means wearing a high-necked jumper because I feel confident and empowered. However, how much cleavage I show will be no longer be dictated by anyone but me.
Ultimately, though, I have a lot more to offer than being ‘the girl with big boobs’. My body is just a shell, and my boobs are a little embellishment. They are a part of me but they are not me – and they no longer define me.
Sophie’s Body Positivity Support Group can be found on Facebook by following this link.