Today I was sitting around in the basement of the place where I volunteer, and some of the folks there were having a conversation about the plight of having big breasts. While internally rehashing my own insecurities about having small-ish boobs (technically 32D when measured properly, though they are more like the conventional perception of B cups), I listened to these women lamenting their sore backs, their limited clothing options. One of them said, “I wish I was one of those women who can just get up and go to work without putting on a bra,” and I realized – I am one of those women.
I can get away with not wearing a bra, and I almost always do. I never experience back pain from the weight of my breasts. I can run up and down stairs braless without incident (though I prefer to hold them against my chest when I do this). I can have cleavage when I want to, and can make it disappear when I want to. I know how to make myself look like a busty vixen or a practically flat-chested teenager, just by changing my clothing and undergarments.
I have to acknowledge to myself that this is a huge privilege I’ve been blessed with. My curvaceous lower body has often made me ache for bigger boobs, to balance me out and make me into a classic hourglass. I’ve never really considered the possibility that being smaller on top is more versatile and spares me from various possible health problems.
I guess my point is, there ain’t no shame in boobs, no matter what size they are. Being small and being big both have their privileges and their drawbacks, and if we understand that, maybe we’ll stop being jealous of other women for they way their racks stack up.