Boobies, honkers, hooters, melons, jugs….
Dear America, We ARE breast obsessed! From day 1, we learn how incredibly important the female breasts are; they are givers of a sustainable life force and for boys (both young and old) a great source of entertainment but for girls…. Well, it’s a “bumpy” ride.
As little girls; we are mildly entertained by teasing our mothers about her breasts and we are slightly fascinated by the size of her bra. We will experiment at least once with trying on our mother’s bra and probably stuff our shirt with balloons while squealing “Look at my big ol’ boobs” and we will laugh hysterically. We barge in our moms while she is in the shower, point and her breasts and giggle. Breasts are just HILARIOUS when you are a little girl. then you hit the edge of puberty.
My sister Amber and I rockin my Grandmother’s bras.
Puberty has to be the cruelest joke that life plays on us, no seriously. boobs no longer are a funny or even allowable topic to a tween girl. Just saying the word bra brings anger, hostility, and possible bodily harm.
When I was in seventh grade, I wore a 32C, it was horrifying to be 12 and to have massively huge breasts for my petite frame and the other girls were also horrifyingly cruel about it. I really think “Boob Envy” should be a diagnosable tween disease!! I remember one girl who’s favorite rumor was that I stuffed my bra? So, as any mature 12 year old would do, I flashed her in the locker room… for some reason, she never spoke my name again.
Not many tween girls are that bold and that’s probably a good thing. Now I have two girls who have also been “Chest blessed”. and for them it is also NOT a blessing, at least at this age. It isn’t easy for them because none of their friends have developed breasts at all; I can imagine that is a very isolating feeling. I do my best to talk to them about it but as I said before, it isn’t a well received topic. So, I offer them my own personal humility; let’s call them “Aubrey’s embarrassing moments while possessing boobs”.
For now we battle our breasts with layers of tank tops or crossed arms and positive body image talk but I know the trip to “BoobVille” is turbulent. Soon enough, I am sure they will embrace the “gift” of breasts and I will be telling them to change their shirts and reminding them to not flash truckers and I will wish for the days of baggy t-shirts and the girls calling each other “Fat boob”. I
One day, the 3 of us will sit and laugh at this; while their kids are dancing around the living room wearing their bras.
Taking it one day at a time.