I’ve had multiple breast cancer scares already in my life, which makes sense because my mom had breast cancer when she was in her late 30s and very early 40s, so I started getting monitored for breast cancer the second my insurance would start covering it. Every year, I get an MRI, a mammogram, and an ultrasound on my breasts, and usually at least one of those three shows something that needs further investigation, which means more imaging and also biopsies. I am, in fact, waiting on a follow-up appointment right this very second because the mammogram and ultrasound I had last week showed some asymmetries in my left breast. Definitely it’s gotta get squished in the mammo machine again, and probably I’m going to need to have it biopsied too.
The biopsies don’t hurt, they’re just a little bit weird. You lie facedown on the MRI table, they position your boobs inside this giant egg tray-looking thing, they scoot you into the MRI machine, and then when they locate the suspicious spot, they pull you out and the doctor slides underneath you like you’re a car up on a rack, and does the biopsy with a long needle. (Then, if you’re me, you sweet talk your way into a sticker and cookies and juice.) The Dubin Breast Center at Mt. Sinai in Manhattan, where I get all my breast screenings done, is my favorite place to get medical care because it’s only women doctors, nurses, techs, receptionists, admins, and imaging specialists. Usually I have to do a little cross-armed, foot-tapping, eyebrow raises to get a woman medical professional to look after me.
I have always loved women. LOVED women. I was like ten years old crushing so hard on Lynda Carter (Wonder Woman) and Teresa Edwards (UGA women’s basketball star) and Jo from the Facts of Life that I thought my heart would break from it. I wanted to BE a woman (not a little girl! a woman!), I wanted to constantly be AROUND women, to watch them brushing on their makeup, putting their hair up and taking their hair down and putting their hair up again, standing in front of the mirror for 15 minutes trying to figure out how to position a scarf, covering the entire length of a basketball court in less than 20 steps and elegantly laying the ball off the backboard and into the basket, aprons for welding and aprons for baking cookies. I couldn’t wait to grow up and join all the Secret Woman Clubs I imagined existed. I thought entrance to the Secret Woman Clubs was granted when your boobs arrived, and so I was desperate to get some. I asked every woman I could think of — my mom, my grandmoms, my Sunday School teachers, my regular school teachers — when my boobs would arrive, if there was anything I could do to speed up the process. Our pastor told my parents I was “obsessed” with boobs and it was maybe “becoming a problem” and wow if he could see me now.
I think maybe at this point I know more people who’ve had top surgery — or want top surgery — than not. And I also know now, of course, that boobs don’t make a woman. So I was actually kinda shocked by my response when my doctors started talking about how I should maybe go ahead and get a double mastectomy, preventatively, because I am so high risk for breast cancer. I don’t want to lose my boobs! I like my boobs! I like them because of how hard I worked to grow them when I was little, and what they represented to me about womanhood, and for intimacy with my wife reasons, and because I have hundreds of dollars worth of very cool sports bras, and other gender and sexuality stuff I’m not really sure I can articulate. I just really like my boobs and would like for them to stay around. Every year, it seems less and less likely that I’m going to get to keep these guys, so, like everything else about my body these days, I’ll just enjoy what’s working when it’s working in the moment and hope for the best — and the resilience to handle whatever not-best comes my way — for now. I’ve got my boobs today, at least! And I’m grateful for it!
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I’ve never heard the boob math Drew talked about, but I’m glad I didn’t. Because I’ve been on hormones for like 6 years and never grew tits at all. Maybe it’s because I didn’t start till I was like 27? I ended up just getting implants. And then got them replaced bc I went to like a back-alley cash type place and they didn’t do an amazing job. And now one has capsular contracture so I have to get it replaced, too.
My left one is amazing right now. But right one is hard as a rock. Damn.
I wish I’d known more or whatever, and maybe waited longer before that first surgery, but it really felt life or death at the time. Maybe it was.
When I was younger I had minimal boobs and strongly preferred it that way as an aspec person who really didn’t want to be looked at “that” way. People trying to “reassure” me that I’d get boobs once (not if?) I had kids felt more like an unintentional threat.
As an adult, when I did give birth and nursed my child it felt kind of exciting to have them be useful for something, but I am honestly quite relieved that since then they’ve mostly shrunk back to a smallish size. I definitely resonate with the idea that if they were bigger I would probably have dysphoria about them, but I’m fine with them being a size where I can just wear a sports bra and mostly ignore them and they aren’t in my way for boxing or swimming or other exercise.
a fun thing i learned recently is that it’s very likely having big boobs is playing an active role in destroying my spine! my sibling and i have the same connective tissue disorder and the same big boobs and because the former is exacerbated by the latter, there’s a chance that top surgery/breast reduction can be covered by insurance as treatment of a preexisting condition. soooo life hack for dysmorphic feels?
I hate when adults say extreme stuff to scare kids, it haunts you forever but it’s probably hardly ever accurate. I imagine you could do some damage if not wearing a sports bra when you should, but I’m pretty sure you’d first feel pain to tell you if you should wear sports bra, particularly with a consistent movement like running. Also I seriously doubt this could possibly happen to the pecs, and the actual structure at risk would probably be the suspensory ligaments (not muscles). But it would be cool if there were actual information about bra needs instead of fear and confusion.
Agreed. Nicole, sounds like my boobs are bigger than yours based on description (although not very big still) and I run without a sports bra or any bra without issue!
I really appreciate you both confirming that the gym teacher info I am working with here may not be the most fact-based.
I have somehow heard the exact opposite, that wearing a bra too much weakens the muscles in your chest and can lead to tears in the muscle?
Because I got boobs so late, I got to experience it all! I didn’t start developing until sophomore year of high school, I was an A or B cup until freshman year of college and then sophomore year they started growing again! I remember giving my cute bras away to a friend. I now have DDDs (I’m 30 years old) and I mostly like them. I do occasionally miss the types of shirts i could wear when my chest was smaller and whenever I shop for bras or swimsuits i wish I were at least a D so i could fit into the stuff on the rack, but most of the time I love having a huge rack.
When I was a teenager, I knew that my boobs made my fat body Marginally more societally acceptable, so I felt good about that aspect of it… which was terribly inauthentic. I wore a lot of sports bras and binders as I got a little older, which felt good but didn’t do much to flatten my large chest and eventually caused some really nasty muscle pain to go along with large chest back pain. Deciding to get top surgery was a huge process for me – I’m a very anxious person, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt ONE HUNDRED PERCENT SURE of anything in my whole life. But trusting the zillions of tiny decisions I made that led up to my surgery was the greatest act of self love. I also took great comfort from a Daniel slavery quote a pal pointed me to: “a body is not a thing that can be ruined.” I ended up getting in on a cancellation, with only 5 days notice. I took some shirtless pics and never looked back. I had surgery September 8 2020. I am so in love with my post surgery chest, even my slightly wonky left nipple (which my fiancé insists is their favourite nipple). More than that though, my chest is a whole love letter expressing my growing ability to trust myself.
Oh my gosh I love this so much! Thank you for sharing <3
Had to jump down here to say, Casey I have the exact same 2 boob related literary memories that have stuck with me to this day! 😂
This is the kind of thing that makes me love this site so much. I mean I love the deep dives and thought provoking beautifully written long reads too – but this round table is the kind of thing that makes someone feel less alone. 13 year old me would have been so shocked and thrilled to read this. I was SO confused by my boobs, and by my feelings about them. I was binding before I knew that was a thing anyone else on the planet did (I just thought I was a weird freak with something wrong with me for not wanting those alien feeling lumps sprouting on my chest). And then for a while in my 20s I still hated them but also convinced myself that when I tried to make them look bigger people treated me with more respect and like my actual age, which might have been true or might have been a mind trick I played on myself. Now I’m in camp if my chest was larger I would be looking more seriously at top surgery. But also boobs are beautiful and I love them on other people and reading all these thoughts and various feelings on boobs makes me think maybe I should play around with something with lace or more “feminine” and see how I feel. I’ve been learning to love other more feminine things since realizing I really don’t give a fuck about my gender and maybe it’s time for those alien lumps on my chest to have their day in the sun. Maybe even literally!
This is simultaneously my favorite and least favorite subject, because I love to talk about how much I resent my chest.
As much as I love all the kicky names for boobs – bazoombas, hooters, sweater puppies, ad infinitum – I have never loved my own. I started developing a tad early and was really self conscious, but guilty about feeling that way because everyone else wanted boobs. Even my mother would joke about me donating some to her because we kids had cleaned her out in the boob department. So for years I put on the whole “check out my rack” bravado, especially because my (very toxic, story for another day) high school bf made a huge deal about them TO EVERYONE. It was only when I got out of that relationship and started looking at how I actually felt (spoiler alert: I felt gaaaaaay) that I dropped that act.
To be fair, they’re nice boobs! They get rave reviews! I just…don’t want them. Or more accurately, they’re at an 11 and I need them at like a 3. They get even more massive when I’m premenstrual, and even at their normal size they are just in. the. way. It’s difficult enough to fit into more masc clothing when you’re five feet tall with hips, and massive bazongas do nothing to make that less of a pain in the ass. I consider myself genderqueer, but I also don’t feel the need to be completely flat for my gender to be affirmed. As has been said, boobs or lack thereof don’t equal gender. So I’m starting to consider a reduction, though I’m terrified of the prospect of surgery and gnarly recovery.
ANYWAY. Thank you for the opportunity to download about this. The beauty of the internet is that nobody can call you a boob ingrate to your face. :)
I’m the same way about my boobs! They’re fine, I just don’t really care about them, and I wish they were smaller, but the thought of getting a reduction kinda freaks me out so I just…put up with them. And wear a lot of compressive bras to minimize them.
I wish I could swap out having boobs or having a totally flat chest whenever I wanted. I like my boobs in sexual contexts and when I am just naked, but I don’t like the fact that other people can see that I have them– I want to present socially as a flat-chested, traditionally androgynous person and my boobs (technically Ds, but still relatively small) get in the way of that.
Wow, really appreciate reading all of these, thank you everyone for sharing!
Getting a breast reduction was the best thing I ever could have bought myself. It instantly improved my life immensely and I would do it again tomorrow. The boob sweat, pain and clothes issues were horrible before, and I didn’t realize just how bad until after my reduction when suddenly I didn’t have to deal with any of it anymore. I also think the scars are cool 😊
i grew up considering myself a tomboy, so even tho my tits were small, they were present and that was confusing. i knew others saw me as a girl, but developing a chest while working side-jobs on my dad’s framing crew was too awkward. i preferred working on weekends when most of the guys were off, but the posters in the tool trailer were ever present to remind me of the ideal woman figure — ugh!! i mean, i thought they were sexy too, but i was far to square to measure up to those curves, but these useless little lumps on my chest were taunting me with what i might attempt to look like in 10 years.
i feel much like ro and would rather just bare my chest in the sun when i want without any cat-calling or backlash. i left an awful, but well-paying “professional” job in part because they couldn’t handle my ignorance of the expectations for women to wear a bra or shave their underarms!
anyhow, i’m learning to accept my breasts as part of my body that can bring me pleasure, but i still tuck them into a sports bra most days when i go out.
I got my nipples pierced this year as a form of self-actualization and as a way to kind of reclaim them for myself from mainstream society, and I am glad I did. I have wavering feelings on my chest that I will probably be sorting through for awhile. I, too, wish I could just be topless or have them bounce around without anyone noticing, but alas. For now I’m pretty ambivalent, but my wife is obsessed with them lol. It was really great to hear everyone be so candid about this!