Friends who really know me know that I hate my boobs. For years, I’ve carried around a mental list of complaints and things I would change: They’re too small. I have no natural cleavage. They disappear in bikini tops. Cowl neck and low-cut tops look terrible on me. They’re shaped weird. The list goes on.
Sure, I liked my boobs when I looked in the mirror topless, but I hated the lack of cleavage anytime I was wearing a shirt. For a while, I relied on push-up bras to give me the look I was going for, eventually throwing them all out because wearing them made me feel like a fraud. Eventually, it got to the point where I’d constantly compare my boobs to anyone and everyone: influencers on social media, strangers at the bar, my friends, even my own mom. I craved a larger cup size and more cleavage, spending my days fantasizing about getting a breast enhancement despite knowing it would never happen.
Going out on weekends, I’d wear low-cut tops hoping that, maybe if I embraced my boobs enough, I’d eventually learn to like them. And in some ways, it worked. I began appreciating how my boobs looked when I went braless in a tight top, but I still wasn’t satisfied. I craved the kind of chest that seemed effortless on other women.
So, when I went to a nude beach, I was hit with a reality check.
After booking a ticket to Spain so I could spend my summer abroad, I was eager to spend my days at the beach, with the water being visible from my balcony. On my very first day in Spain, I threw on a bikini, grabbed my towel, and headed for the beach.
Almost immediately, I saw a topless woman.
At first, I was waiting for someone to yell at her or tell her to cover up. But then I noticed more women without bikini tops on. Immediately, I realized that this was a topless beach. While not everyone was topless, a good amount of women were, and it felt so empowering.
After doing some research, I realized that Spain allows partial (and in some places, full) nudity at beaches to embrace body positivity while also being aware that it’s more comfortable and natural for women to tan topless. Plus, it embraces freedom and empowerment while also attempting to desexualize the female body — because, after all, boobs are natural and just another part of the body. It’s basically the opposite of the United States, where it feels like people are strangely obsessed with women’s breasts, while simultaneously treating them like something scandalous — so this new attitude felt refreshing.
For years, I thought that confidence would come after changing my body: bigger boobs, more cleavage, a different shape. If I changed them, then I’d finally feel attractive enough.
It didn’t take me long to realize that nobody’s boobs were perfect like I’d constantly told myself. Some women were young, some were older. Some had big boobs, some had small boobs. Some had uneven boobs, and some had boobs that hung low. And nobody cared. For years, I’ve been under the impression that plenty of women had perfectly-sized boobs with natural cleavage without even having to try. And that’s just… not true.
Once I saw handfuls of real women existing comfortably in their natural bodies, it became a lot easier to embrace my femininity and natural boobs — something I’ve always been scared of doing. So, after a few days of spending hours at the beach, I took my top off. And nobody cared.
A part of me had expected people to gawk or judge me, but nobody even looked. It felt so freeing being able to enjoy my day at the beach without stressing about how my boobs appeared in my bikini top. To be honest, I’ve always loved how my bare boobs have looked in the mirror — I’ve just hated how they look in tight tops or bikinis. So, when I got to embrace my natural boobs at the beach, surrounded by tons of other women doing the same thing, I found myself overflowing with empowerment and joy.
For years, I thought that confidence would come after changing my body: bigger boobs, more cleavage, a different shape. If I changed them, then I’d finally feel attractive enough. But standing on that beach, surrounded by women who looked nothing alike, I realized that confidence had nothing to do with perfection; none of these women had the “ideal” body I’d spent years craving. And yet, they existed so comfortably in their bodies that it made me question why I’d spent so many years at war with mine.
I spent years wanting different boobs when in reality, all I needed was a different perspective.
I’ve learned that social media has convinced me into believing that boobs are supposed to look one specific way at all times: pushed up, voluptuous, symmetrical, effortlessly perfect in every top and bikini. But real boobs don’t work like that. Real bodies don’t work like that.
And maybe that’s what changed for me most at the beach. For once, boobs stopped feeling like something that was being evaluated. They were just part of our bodies. Nobody was ranking them, comparing them, or staring the way I’d always feared they would. The only person obsessing over my boobs all these years was me. I spent years wanting different boobs when in reality, all I needed was a different perspective.
I’ll admit it — I still don’t have “perfect” boobs, but I don’t think “perfect” boobs exist anymore. At the end of the day, one thing I know is for sure: I’m going to continue enjoying my days topless at the beach. Because after all, who really even cares about what my boobs look like? Not me anymore, that’s for sure.