I never really saw this as a blog topic, but Mia made me realize that it might actually make a good one! I’ve just been feeling a little guilty over the fact that I must struggle to make bust size a focal point in everything I write.
So why do so many women I know seem preoccupied with their bust size? I really had to think about it. I’m a person who just is; I’m generally not bothered about much, and even though I like analytic discussions about just about anything and love a great constructive discussion, I still don’t feel that strongly about a lot of things. The way I grew up, my self image and esteem just happened to be built around who I am and what I do over what I look like. I won’t go into specifics, but I’m one of the many in this world who has had a very winding path on my way to adulthood, so looks were not high on the priority list a lot of the time.
In a sense I do pay attention to my bust size, but most often in a joking way–as in when someone asks me to do something and I can’t do it in the same way because of my bust, I’ll just say, “Well, not with my boobs!” or something along those lines. A British co-worker asked me this week why I bought from a UK online store when the pound is so strong at the moment. I just said to him, “Well, if I want a trench coat that buttons all the way up, I have to order from a specialist retailer in the UK.” I’ve also told some co-workers that I write this column because it’s harder to find clothes when you are big-busted. Most people haven’t really thought of that actually! They often get an Aha! moment when they realize that it’s actually true.
My surroundings are definitely another factor in my attitude. Here men don’t catcall women or holler on the streets. Generally we are taught from childhood not to stare at people, not to point at people, and to give people their privacy. So while it is noticeable that I am above-average-busted, people usually don’t show in any way that they notice. Well, also I’m quite blind. Even if they do, I hardly ever notice if someone’s looking at me anyway! It has to be such blatant bust staring that even I notice. In those rare cases, it’s usually just something I can crack a joke about if it happens at work since I’m not bothered if it clearly is just innocent and not on purpose.
But I do wonder sometimes how I’m described to someone who is looking for me at the office and doesn’t know who I am!!! If I say that he’s the dark bearded, deep voiced bold guy in a hoodie–well, am I then the dark-haired, big-busted woman with the black specs who always wears dresses or something? 😀 I’d rather not know, but I know that I might be, and it’s ok. I am that way.
It might seem like a contradiction that I write for a busty blog, but I am big busted and love clothes, so why not? I just don’t always make a focal point over that as it just doesn’t come naturally to me. To me the topics I feel most deeply about apply to womanhood in general and from that perspective, accepting your body is not specific to any particular body type but to anyone in general.
My personal trainer Maria asked me yesterday at the gym when we were–again–fixing my posture during an exercise, “Have you ever considered a reduction?” I was a little stunned at first as the thought had never entered my head. I replied, “No, why would I have?” I understood her point after my initial reply, but then I continued, “If I hadn’t found my correct bra size when I did, I don’t know, I might think differently.” But I’m blessed with not having any pain because of the weight of my bust so that is essentially why. It’s also most likely why my bust is just one part of me just like the rest of my body. If there were any pain, I’d probably think about it a lot more.