BOO(b) Week: HCK Writers on Body Image

This article is part of our BOO(b) Week Series: in honor of Halloween and Breast Cancer Awareness Month, we are publishing an article each day about boos, boobs, or both.

Juliana: “For the longest time I was convinced that I was disproportionate. I was not okay with having a pear shaped body and I was absolutely upset that my friends seemed to be increasing bra size so much faster than me. Then I discovered Botticelli and realized that big hips and small boobs can be beautiful and even worthy of Venus and so now I have a goddess complex.”

Maddy: “When I was in middle school, ‘boob punch’ was all the rage. For those of you lucky enough to not know what that means, it was the prepubescent boy’s genius excuse to have the rare chance to touch boobs by punching our chests in a tag-esque game. A boy getting punched in the chest was obviously no biggie—but getting punched in your sore and newly developed boobs hurts like an absolute bitch. I remember dreading having bigger boobs, creating two huge and easy targets on my awkward and insecure body. If only I knew that kicking one boy in the crotch would ward of the rest of them for the rest of middle school, I would have done it much sooner.”

Sarah: “I’m pretty sure I have old lady tits. I got my nipples pierced in an effort to make them young and fun, but I’m not sure it worked. We’re learning to love each other, my boobs and I. It’s a process.”

Paola: “The first person other than myself to see my boobs was a friend from middle school. She laughed and pointed at my chest and yelled, ‘Pepperoni nipples!’ It was mortifying, and I’ve had a long journey trying to come to terms with my breasts. I think it’s astonishing how much the media—including but definitely not limited to porn and graphic HBO shows—give us these ideas about what breasts should look like. But breasts can be cool regardless of whether or not they’re perky or have small nipples or are a certain color. So viva la pepperoni nipple, I guess.”

Mackenna: “I was the first of my friends to get boobs. They just sort of appeared in sixth grade when no one else had them. So for a while, I was the awkward one with big boobs. People threw things down my shirts and other kids made really weird comments about my body because it was different than everyone else’s. Then, everyone else started getting boobs and mine stayed the same and haven’t really grown since. So I went from having the biggest boobs to the like, most medium boobs. And I’m really okay with that. I’m less okay with the VALLEY between my boobs, but I’ve definitely gotten less insecure about lacking cleavage as I’ve gotten older.”

Vahni: “In my freshman year of high school, I went from a B-cup to a Double D faster than you could say ‘puberty.’ I was pretty proud of this new development on my otherwise scrawny body, and I felt like I had reached a new level of feminine maturity. Then one day, I was hanging out with some white friends and one of the girls said, ‘Ew, did you know that Rihanna has huge, brown nipples?’ I’m not sure why she thought that Rihanna would have pale nipples, but instead of thinking she had made a dumb comment, I immediately became self-conscious about my own, dark-skinned body. I thought that if a sexy and successful woman like Rihanna could be considered gross because of her skin color, what chance did I have of being beautiful? Luckily, there were other women of color who had gone through similar experiences and talked about it online. I learned from them that you should never devalue yourself based on others’ expectations, and that brown is just as sexy as any other color.”

Johanna: “I’ve always had big boobs. It’s just a fact. After I finished growing, I was a Double D and I was very aware of it. Apparently everyone else was to because people could not stop pointing this out to me. Even friends of my parents would make comments about how I filled out or how grown up I seemed. At first I really appreciated some of the comments, but as time went on I felt kind of icky. I didn’t want the attention, so I started to hide my curves. I wore baggy sweatshirts and tops with a higher neckline. I wore sport bras almost exclusively. I wanted to be pretty, but I didn’t want eyes that were constantly on me. Then I saw more and more women being confident in their own bodies who ignored the comments thrown their way and were amazingly beautiful. I realized that that’s what I wanted to be. I wanted to, for once, be comfortable in my own skin. And so, I stepped out of my comfort zone and experimented with looks that emphasize my curves but also let me become more at home in my body. I still have a love/hate relationship with my boobs, but damn if I’m going to have big boobs then I’m going to work it.”

Margo: “I never have been part of the nice boobs club. Until recently I barely even had boobs. Genetically, I know that big boobs were never in the cards. However, working out multiple hours a week, 7 days a week certainly did not help. Luckily for me, many of my fellow teammates has the same problem and instead we were told our “nice legs and butts” made up for it. This allowed for others to justify our smaller breasts. Which now seems to me to be a statement in which should hold no validity nor be accepted. Overall, I was satisfied with my boobs, they did not bother me. However, upon getting to college and quitting a college sport, my boobs began to bother me. Cute going out tops could fit on all of my friends, but not me. While this still bothers me, I know have come to the conclusion that regardless of the size of my boobs, some tops will look good and some will not. The size of my boobs are simply irrelevant.”

Suz: “I never liked the size of my boobs. I always thought maybe… just maybe if they could get a little bigger, then I’d believe that my body could be beautiful. They never did, and I gave up trying to fight it. It’s a mound of fat tissue, why should I give a damn?”

Hannah: “I spent most of my middle school and teen years wishing I were busty, or could even fill an average B-cup with my breast tissue. I struggled to find myself womanly or even feminine, but the older I’ve gotten, the more I realize how lucky I am to have the healthy body that I do: breasts don’t define beauty, they never have and they never will. Now that I’m in my twenties, I’ve accepted that I’m a tiny-titted lady, and I love that.”

Image Credit: Feature, 1, 2

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