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All About Boobs
by Michelle Montoro
There is a certain grandeur in the female breast. Magical and majestic in its essence. Coercive and manipulative in its presence. Perky or pendulous, abundant or meek, they should be appreciated for their power and their persuasion, their life giving force as well as their bounteous comfort.
Only half the human population is blessed (or cursed) with these anatomical powerhouses. And the feelings around them vary to the utmost degree. We who carry them love them and hate them from before we even have them. The changing nature of our relationships with our breasts continues for a lifetime.
We hide them away under layers of garments. Every single day. Strapped in, lifted up, pushed together. We search for clothing that makes them look smaller, makes them look bigger, makes them look shapelier, makes them look sexier. Rather than just embracing them for what they are.
If we become mothers, our breasts are a life sustaining force which demand respect. After child rearing has come to an end or if we never have children, we are eventually left with these annoying masses of fat and muscle hanging from the front of our bodies like pendulums that can inexplicably entice with hypnotic effects.
Unless, of course, we are among the unfortunate ones who are stricken with cancer in these masses of flesh, then it is these life sustaining forces that now threaten our own lives. We have to make decisions in those moments what to do…remove them and leave it be or opt for cosmetic implants because God forbid we look different from every other member of the female gender.
But no matter our course in life, breasts come in every shape, size, and form. They differ in density, perkiness, and buoyancy. Nipples and aureolas come in an endless array of pigmentation, shape, and size. Aesthetic preferences differ on all of it. We tend to have what we don’t want and want what we don’t have. But we get what we are given and we must make the best of our breasts however we get them.
We love them. We hate them. We never quite know what we are supposed to do with them.
What I do know is this…the female breast was never meant to be confined and restrained and smooshed all up flat inside confining torture chambers crafted so devilishly from pretty lacy bits covered in flowers and bows, leopard print and polka dots. Oh, the endless appeal of the charming torment of the perfect support mechanism. Many of us search our entire lives for the Holy Grail in bras…comfortable and pretty and supportive.
We spend a lifetime of discomfort as we do the most unnatural things to make our breasts appear more natural…or so we think. Women’s breasts were meant to experience the freedom of hanging loose from the persecution and confinement forced upon us by the best and the worst in bras.
And while they are not meant to be confined, I still put on a bra every day because I do not like when my boobs swing low. They look nicer when they are lifted and supported and perky and firm. And I hate that my aureolas are the same color as my skin with no dark pigmentation to create that appealing color contrast that I so envy on other women.
In an effort to get over my personal insecurities about my own boobs, I am showing them off in all their naked glory and learning to appreciate their color, their size, and their shape. I am learning to admire their curves and the way they hang gently over my ribcage and how the right one is ever so slightly larger than the left one. I am learning to love myself…all of myself…from underneath my clothes.
I challenge all women to free your boobs and take a few photos. You don’t have to share the photos with anyone. Just look at them yourself and try to appreciate the beauty in the lines and curves, the stretch marks and the birth marks, the hair follicles and the cellulite. And to all the males out there, I challenge you to respect the boobs for the beautiful and natural things that they are! Do not take them for granted because they really do seem to contain magic within them.
Free the boobies!
Michelle is a stay-at-home mother of two boys, an Army wife, a passionate scholar, and a lover of words with a driving desire to help others in the pursuit of becoming the best possible versions of themselves. With a background that includes coaching, mental health counseling, philosophy, English, and law, she strives to reach people by sharing her personal stories of struggles and successes. By always keeping it raw and genuine, she reaches her readers on a level that is real and comforting, always accepting and never judgmental.
You can read more of Michelle’s story and what she shares about her life on her blog Shelbee on the Edge.
