I hate my breasts.
I hate their shape, I hate their size, I hate that they do not look remotely like the women’s I see in porn. I hate that my boyfriend is subjected to this perfect, idealised version of breasts so that when I remove my bra, I’m convinced I see a lingering disappointment in his eyes. I hate that I feel threatened by any big breasted beauty and I hate that when I look at my naked body in the mirror, they’re all I see.
I hate that I’ve even considered plastic surgery just to be more appealing to the opposite sex. Not because of my own insecurities, not because I’m plagued with an obsessive hatred of them, but because the patriarchal society has said, “these breasts are sexy. Yours are not.”
I hate that as a young girl growing up, I was bombarded with this false representation of how my breasts were “meant” to look, and so are young girls today. So by the time they reach adulthood, they, like many of my generation will be psychologically forced to spend thousands of dollars on mutilating their bodies to they can be loved and accepted, but most importantly feel capable, worthy even.
But most of all, I hate that I don’t hate them.
I refuse to change my body for men, and not because I have a problem with plastic surgery but because I believe it should only be a last resort. It should be something you chose yourself because your life is greatly affected by the feature you despise. I believe it should be in your every thought, it should stop you from doing all of things you want because only then should changing the body God intended, be an option. It should be for YOU, and only you. Not so your boyfriend loves you more. Not so you feel worthy or accepted. But because it will change your life, because it will set you free.
Me? I’m going to celebrate media in which normal breasts are shown and adored. For example, Lena Dumham’s Girls, a show which has greatly impacted my twenties. It’s honest, powerful, real and empowering. And Lena Dunham herself, is my feminist icon; she makes me feel proud to be a woman, she helps me love myself. And watching her show was the first time I was able to think to myself, my breasts are like that and that’s okay.
As women, we should celebrate our bodies, no matter their shape or size, no matter if they’re different than those shown in porn.
We should not be coerced into changing ourselves, we deserve to be brought up in a world which says, “you know what’s beautiful? Being unique, being imperfect, being you.”
Because it is; because you are.
(And so are your breasts! I promise.)