Warning: this might be the most uncomfortable, most vulnerable post I have written to date. I have sat with it for a while. Please be gentle with your comments, and your judgements even if you keep them to yourself.
Take a breath and step into Empathy.
There's also a lot of heat and passion in this, and swearing.
I hope you can hold space.
I'm also not worried about spelling or grammar - so hold space for that too.
Namaste.
Not too long ago I had some guy from high school, that I had on facebook (key word is "had"), write me to say hello and to tell me he thought I was looking really great these days. I thought "wow!" what a compliment, since I am in fact working hard on my health and I thought it was cool that it showed over facespace. It made me feel really happy, at first.
As we chatted a bit and caught up (all of which I was hoping was innocent pleasantries) at the back of my mind I thought to myself "I wonder what he wants". That made me feel sad, and I felt bad for thinking this but in all honesty I think that over my life I have become jaded - especially when it comes to compliments from men.
Sure enough, he said he remembered that I had had a breast reduction and then asked me how the whole thing went...if it affected how "they" looked now, 10 years later, etc.
Then I knew why the compliments.
He was buttering me up...
So I asked him what his point was...he said "well I wondered if you would show them to me, I am curious as to how the surgery turned out".
Serious face.
Now let's review the following points that he didn't choose to consider:
1. He knows that I am in a relationship (I mention this because I slid it in there, that I was in one and I doubt in my case it would go over well if I was sending titty shots over the interwebs. It's obviously up to me, and I choose not to but I don't want Danny's bits being sent to other women at this point in time either. To each their own, but it's a point worth mentioning in my particular case.)
2. We aren't in a relationship or friendship of any sort
3. He must take me for a god damn fool
4. Because he was so "polite" in his method of asking, he was quite surprised that I was offended by his request.
5. He then tried to put it on me, and said that I didn't need to be offended (all I did was laugh and then delete him)
The thing is, that this is not even shocking to me - but that blows my mind. None of it shocks me, except that I am not shocked. That's a little shocking when I really look at it under a magnifying glass.
This is not the first time (however, maybe the first in a long time) for a random guy who has no business asking to see my breasts, ask me - boldly - with a sense of entitlement - with some trickery of compliments.
And I need to be clear that it's not even that he asked me - you can ask anyone anything you want I suppose...it's that he thought that because he was polite that I should say yes, and it's that he thought that I was going to say yes and when I didn't he decided to turn it around on me.
What.In.The.Actual.Fuck.
I do need to just mention also that I think it'sweird messed up that - that men think it's ok to ask women to see their boobs, OUT OF NOWHERE like it's just a question that is beyond their control, they can't help it! We have the goods, they need to see them, so they are just gonna put it out there and hope someone bites. Not to mention over the internet...where people can KEEP the pic and SHARE the pic. Do I look like I was born YESTERDAY?
Also he can see boobs anytime, I would imagine, but he wanted to get me to show him mine. There's something there, some sort of triumph...some level of accomplishment that would follow if he got me to agree to this ostentatious request.
I mean at least he asked, he didn't just take or force (although there was some attempt at manipulation). But I'm not here to talk about the "at least" part of all this.
I don't know too many women that would message an old high school acquaintance out of no where and say "hey McDude, can you send me a picture of your schlong?? I heard it was really big, please and thank you." Then get mad when they refused.
No, they just send them without being asked. And I hate to say it but...we don't want your DICK PICS...so stop it. (that's another post altogether). Not that I get any, but I've heard.
So it's a cultural thing. It's conditioned. It might not be said in words, but it's subliminally in our minds. It's ok for men to ask, to want it, to expect it - it's not ok for us to be mad about it.
So come along, take a wee walk back through my life with me here for a few...
The first time someone asked me to show them my boobs I was in grade 9, I laughed it off and wondered what the fuck was going through that guys head. (Just to remind you, in grade 9, we are 14 years old ish.)
The second time it happened (that I remember) it was a much bigger production.
I was with some guys I really loved and trusted - some guys I skateboarded with, who I considered my best friends. One of them started in at me and the rest joined him eventually. They started off slow and then progressively started to badger me and corner me with so much manipulation. They eventually convinced me (in some twisted way that made sense in my 15 year old brains) that it would be "cool" of me, and that it would make them respect me more. I honestly worried they wouldn't be my friends anymore, if I didn't. I really really wanted to be liked.
So I did it.
In someone's backyard, in St.Eleanor's Summerside PEI, when I was 15 years old, I shamefully (with my gaze toward the ground) ripped up my shirt for 5 seconds and then ran off. There is a flicker of a memory there of one of the guys trying to kiss me after. Talk about confusing. Luckily there were no other girls there, and I didn't tell anyone, cause I would have been called a slut, in fact I just did it for them.
This has haunted me. When the memory comes up, I shudder. I hate you 15 year old Grace. You slut.
How sad is that? That's so terribly sad. All of it.
I don't really even blame them - individually - it honestly happened so many times, that it started to feel normal to me. It was just my lot in life - big tits, guys hounding me, they couldn't help it. And you know...I deserved it, after all I was the one who received/asked for these big huge boobs after all, or so I was made to believe...(please note my sarcasm).
So here's the thing. I had large breasts - pretty much from the time I was 9. They started to bud (ha! like they were flowers...) early and I got used to wearing sweaters a lot. I got mad at Mom when she told me I needed a bra. NO WAY. I was a kid! So I hated them from the get-go. They set me apart from the children. I was 10, I was "children" too guys. I wasn't ready. We hadn't even done sex-ed yet for frig sakes.
My entire life people made comments - my mom's friends, my own friends, anyone I had to change in front of for dance or sports. It wasn't just boys or men. It was everyone. They seemed to draw attention and people thought they were up for discussion. Eventually, I used my boobs for good and bestowed my bra knowledge to the other girls who had large breasts too - so they could do lay-ups without discomfort, I was an underground boob-hero of sorts I guess you could say...
The whole big-boog-thing...I came to realize it was somehow my "fault" I had them. People would say "looks like you got more than your share" in a disgruntled voice, like tits were handed out sparingly and I got in line twice cause I was "greedy". (Such horseshit)! In case you don't know how bodies work: I never asked for them. I had no idea it was coming. One day I was running around flat-chest to the wind and the next I had to get a new bathing suit with a "lining" so people couldn't see the braille around my nipples.
In fact let me tell you - all this is partly why I ended up having a reduction when I was 22. They were never something I wanted any attention for - and believe me, I sure do love attention. I want attention for being funny, for being smart, for being really really good at stuff, for being a good basketball player, a good dancer, a good friend, and most of all just for being me.
So I had them cut off. Cut open, removed and sewed back up.
I had a them remove a part of me, cause I didn't like it. I acted like it was for back problems...
(Disclaimer: this is not everyone's story who gets a breast reduction, and I do not judge anyone for doing so, AT ALL...at all)
It happened again, in grade 10 another group of guys I really liked and was hanging out with (the only girl, as often the case, I was slowly realizing I couldn't do this anymore) and they did the same thing. "Hey Grace you have such nice big boobs, you should show us. Aren't you proud of them? We'd love to see them, it would be so cool of you, you'd be the coolest girl we know!". I look back now and I am quite certain these guys had never seen boobs in their life except for maybe their mothers. And porn boobs. Lots of porn boobs.
It happened again when I was 20, and throughout my 20's I think I learned to "use" them. To flaunt them more, because if I had them, I might as well put them "to good use". This didn't work out well either. I worked at Hooters for a while in university and I hated myself every night alone on the subway at 1am, hoping and praying my father wouldn't find out. That people back home wouldn't find out and call me a slut. I am sure they did. Maybe you, reading this - maybe you knew, maybe you called me names. I don't blame you. It's what we are taught.
Breasts are so mysterious to young men, concealed, and revered - the Breasts! Only to be seen in porn, or by accident when your sister or mom are changing - and in that case you shouldn't look, you shouldn't be curious...
They are coveted and yet built up the highest pedestal of all. But they don't want to see them if there's a baby attached - no way, "put those THINGS away!" Oh but wait...aren't you the same dude who backed me into a corner in a weird old garage yanking at my shirt, telling me that I could trust you?
And if I had told anyone at the time, my girlfriends or an adult...I assure you it would have been my fault. What did I do to egg them on? What did I do to make them want to see them? How flirtatious was I? It would have been me...cause you know "boys will be boys".
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFT. No.
Even since I took the Sexually Embodied Woman's course and we did a mediation focused on our sexuality, I have been unpacking all this shit I've been carrying around my whole like. The burden of my body, the burden of my sex, the burden on my chest, and in my heart. These big tig ol'bitties that even came back after I cut them off. The jokes that were made over my life, constantly - even by male teachers - by people who never should have been noticing, but they did and they stared and they even said "watch where you're going with those things". It wasn't just men, it was women too.Women felt it was ok to make comments, to be jealous, or to pitty me.
I realized in this course, my shame, my guilt, my disconnect with my own body. I felt ashamed of my breasts, I felt blamed for them. I felt like my body wasn't my own but just something other people could pass judgement on as good or bad, sexy or not. I was leaving my self-worth up to other people.
Well fuck that.
As I practice yoga and I work on my posture, how I feel in my own skin, on opening my heart and my chest - the pain comes up. The pain that I try to conceal, and have for the last 23 odd years. Why should my boobs be something to be ashamed of? They fed my two babies, even after I traumatized them going under the knife. They are beautiful, but they are mine, and I should get to make choices about who sees them and when and we should all be taught this. There should never be forcing, or psychological forcing. Ever.
I was never raped. But I was forced, manipulated, convinced and made to feel small.
So here's what I'm saying.
Have a talk with yourself, about how you feel about your body - and why. Heal that shit up.
and then...
Talk to your kids - when the time feels right.
Change how things are.
Make sure your boys know they are never to reduce a woman to her body, no matter what they see on TV/Porn/Movies/Magazines.
Start a conversation.
Make sure they know they are never to force anyone or even ask in a way that implies that she should, that her worth is wrapped up in it.
They wait until she is ready.
Tell your girls too, that they should never influence a guy to do anything he doesn't want to do or isn't ready for.
It goes both ways.
Tell them, too, that they don't need to show anyone anything for any reason.
Dear Little Grace,
Your body is not your identify, your boobs are not your "fault".
You made some mistakes and that's ok, it's all part of the process.
You are not a slut.
Hey - 15 year old Grace, I hope you heard me too.
You are not a slut.
I love you.
From 33 year old Grace
And last but not least...
Just because the media makes us think big breasts are the best breasts doesn't mean people who have them are super stoked about it, or that they asked for them or "got lucky". It also doesn't mean people with small breasts are unhappy either. So please don't make assumptions and be careful with your choice of language.
I've always envied people with small breasts. People with small breasts sometimes envy us with big ones. We are never allowed to be happy with what we got. (and I'm gonna allow you right now to be happy, in this moment for whatever you got).
Usually boobs (small and big and medium) are a burden and that's just not fucking ok. I'm sick of hearing about types of boobs, types of nipples - the weird ones...THERE ARE NO WEIRD BOOBS by the way...all boobs are beautiful.
Be happy with what you have, there is not better, or best. We are all different. We are all perfect just as we are - that's not cheesy, that's real talk.
My breasts are not a burden, they are a part of my body - and I am learning to love every single part. It's a beautiful thing to unpack all this old shit, and take my power back.
And I think we all have these stories - the shameful stories we hold in the deep dark places.
You are beautiful,even with especially with your deep dark "uglies".
Thanks for holding space.
I hope this served you in some way.
I love you.
With Love & Gratitude,
Grace Karyn
Take a breath and step into Empathy.
There's also a lot of heat and passion in this, and swearing.
I hope you can hold space.
I'm also not worried about spelling or grammar - so hold space for that too.
Namaste.
Not too long ago I had some guy from high school, that I had on facebook (key word is "had"), write me to say hello and to tell me he thought I was looking really great these days. I thought "wow!" what a compliment, since I am in fact working hard on my health and I thought it was cool that it showed over facespace. It made me feel really happy, at first.
As we chatted a bit and caught up (all of which I was hoping was innocent pleasantries) at the back of my mind I thought to myself "I wonder what he wants". That made me feel sad, and I felt bad for thinking this but in all honesty I think that over my life I have become jaded - especially when it comes to compliments from men.
Sure enough, he said he remembered that I had had a breast reduction and then asked me how the whole thing went...if it affected how "they" looked now, 10 years later, etc.
Then I knew why the compliments.
He was buttering me up...
So I asked him what his point was...he said "well I wondered if you would show them to me, I am curious as to how the surgery turned out".
Serious face.
Now let's review the following points that he didn't choose to consider:
1. He knows that I am in a relationship (I mention this because I slid it in there, that I was in one and I doubt in my case it would go over well if I was sending titty shots over the interwebs. It's obviously up to me, and I choose not to but I don't want Danny's bits being sent to other women at this point in time either. To each their own, but it's a point worth mentioning in my particular case.)
2. We aren't in a relationship or friendship of any sort
3. He must take me for a god damn fool
4. Because he was so "polite" in his method of asking, he was quite surprised that I was offended by his request.
5. He then tried to put it on me, and said that I didn't need to be offended (all I did was laugh and then delete him)
The thing is, that this is not even shocking to me - but that blows my mind. None of it shocks me, except that I am not shocked. That's a little shocking when I really look at it under a magnifying glass.
This is not the first time (however, maybe the first in a long time) for a random guy who has no business asking to see my breasts, ask me - boldly - with a sense of entitlement - with some trickery of compliments.
And I need to be clear that it's not even that he asked me - you can ask anyone anything you want I suppose...it's that he thought that because he was polite that I should say yes, and it's that he thought that I was going to say yes and when I didn't he decided to turn it around on me.
What.In.The.Actual.Fuck.
I do need to just mention also that I think it's
Also he can see boobs anytime, I would imagine, but he wanted to get me to show him mine. There's something there, some sort of triumph...some level of accomplishment that would follow if he got me to agree to this ostentatious request.
I mean at least he asked, he didn't just take or force (although there was some attempt at manipulation). But I'm not here to talk about the "at least" part of all this.
I don't know too many women that would message an old high school acquaintance out of no where and say "hey McDude, can you send me a picture of your schlong?? I heard it was really big, please and thank you." Then get mad when they refused.
No, they just send them without being asked. And I hate to say it but...we don't want your DICK PICS...so stop it. (that's another post altogether). Not that I get any, but I've heard.
So it's a cultural thing. It's conditioned. It might not be said in words, but it's subliminally in our minds. It's ok for men to ask, to want it, to expect it - it's not ok for us to be mad about it.
So come along, take a wee walk back through my life with me here for a few...
The first time someone asked me to show them my boobs I was in grade 9, I laughed it off and wondered what the fuck was going through that guys head. (Just to remind you, in grade 9, we are 14 years old ish.)
The second time it happened (that I remember) it was a much bigger production.
I was with some guys I really loved and trusted - some guys I skateboarded with, who I considered my best friends. One of them started in at me and the rest joined him eventually. They started off slow and then progressively started to badger me and corner me with so much manipulation. They eventually convinced me (in some twisted way that made sense in my 15 year old brains) that it would be "cool" of me, and that it would make them respect me more. I honestly worried they wouldn't be my friends anymore, if I didn't. I really really wanted to be liked.
So I did it.
In someone's backyard, in St.Eleanor's Summerside PEI, when I was 15 years old, I shamefully (with my gaze toward the ground) ripped up my shirt for 5 seconds and then ran off. There is a flicker of a memory there of one of the guys trying to kiss me after. Talk about confusing. Luckily there were no other girls there, and I didn't tell anyone, cause I would have been called a slut, in fact I just did it for them.
This has haunted me. When the memory comes up, I shudder. I hate you 15 year old Grace. You slut.
How sad is that? That's so terribly sad. All of it.
I don't really even blame them - individually - it honestly happened so many times, that it started to feel normal to me. It was just my lot in life - big tits, guys hounding me, they couldn't help it. And you know...I deserved it, after all I was the one who received/asked for these big huge boobs after all, or so I was made to believe...(please note my sarcasm).
So here's the thing. I had large breasts - pretty much from the time I was 9. They started to bud (ha! like they were flowers...) early and I got used to wearing sweaters a lot. I got mad at Mom when she told me I needed a bra. NO WAY. I was a kid! So I hated them from the get-go. They set me apart from the children. I was 10, I was "children" too guys. I wasn't ready. We hadn't even done sex-ed yet for frig sakes.
My entire life people made comments - my mom's friends, my own friends, anyone I had to change in front of for dance or sports. It wasn't just boys or men. It was everyone. They seemed to draw attention and people thought they were up for discussion. Eventually, I used my boobs for good and bestowed my bra knowledge to the other girls who had large breasts too - so they could do lay-ups without discomfort, I was an underground boob-hero of sorts I guess you could say...
The whole big-boog-thing...I came to realize it was somehow my "fault" I had them. People would say "looks like you got more than your share" in a disgruntled voice, like tits were handed out sparingly and I got in line twice cause I was "greedy". (Such horseshit)! In case you don't know how bodies work: I never asked for them. I had no idea it was coming. One day I was running around flat-chest to the wind and the next I had to get a new bathing suit with a "lining" so people couldn't see the braille around my nipples.
In fact let me tell you - all this is partly why I ended up having a reduction when I was 22. They were never something I wanted any attention for - and believe me, I sure do love attention. I want attention for being funny, for being smart, for being really really good at stuff, for being a good basketball player, a good dancer, a good friend, and most of all just for being me.
So I had them cut off. Cut open, removed and sewed back up.
I had a them remove a part of me, cause I didn't like it. I acted like it was for back problems...
(Disclaimer: this is not everyone's story who gets a breast reduction, and I do not judge anyone for doing so, AT ALL...at all)
It happened again, in grade 10 another group of guys I really liked and was hanging out with (the only girl, as often the case, I was slowly realizing I couldn't do this anymore) and they did the same thing. "Hey Grace you have such nice big boobs, you should show us. Aren't you proud of them? We'd love to see them, it would be so cool of you, you'd be the coolest girl we know!". I look back now and I am quite certain these guys had never seen boobs in their life except for maybe their mothers. And porn boobs. Lots of porn boobs.
It happened again when I was 20, and throughout my 20's I think I learned to "use" them. To flaunt them more, because if I had them, I might as well put them "to good use". This didn't work out well either. I worked at Hooters for a while in university and I hated myself every night alone on the subway at 1am, hoping and praying my father wouldn't find out. That people back home wouldn't find out and call me a slut. I am sure they did. Maybe you, reading this - maybe you knew, maybe you called me names. I don't blame you. It's what we are taught.
They are coveted and yet built up the highest pedestal of all. But they don't want to see them if there's a baby attached - no way, "put those THINGS away!" Oh but wait...aren't you the same dude who backed me into a corner in a weird old garage yanking at my shirt, telling me that I could trust you?
And if I had told anyone at the time, my girlfriends or an adult...I assure you it would have been my fault. What did I do to egg them on? What did I do to make them want to see them? How flirtatious was I? It would have been me...cause you know "boys will be boys".
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFT. No.
Even since I took the Sexually Embodied Woman's course and we did a mediation focused on our sexuality, I have been unpacking all this shit I've been carrying around my whole like. The burden of my body, the burden of my sex, the burden on my chest, and in my heart. These big tig ol'bitties that even came back after I cut them off. The jokes that were made over my life, constantly - even by male teachers - by people who never should have been noticing, but they did and they stared and they even said "watch where you're going with those things". It wasn't just men, it was women too.Women felt it was ok to make comments, to be jealous, or to pitty me.
I realized in this course, my shame, my guilt, my disconnect with my own body. I felt ashamed of my breasts, I felt blamed for them. I felt like my body wasn't my own but just something other people could pass judgement on as good or bad, sexy or not. I was leaving my self-worth up to other people.
Well fuck that.
As I practice yoga and I work on my posture, how I feel in my own skin, on opening my heart and my chest - the pain comes up. The pain that I try to conceal, and have for the last 23 odd years. Why should my boobs be something to be ashamed of? They fed my two babies, even after I traumatized them going under the knife. They are beautiful, but they are mine, and I should get to make choices about who sees them and when and we should all be taught this. There should never be forcing, or psychological forcing. Ever.
I was never raped. But I was forced, manipulated, convinced and made to feel small.
So here's what I'm saying.
Have a talk with yourself, about how you feel about your body - and why. Heal that shit up.
and then...
Talk to your kids - when the time feels right.
Change how things are.
Make sure your boys know they are never to reduce a woman to her body, no matter what they see on TV/Porn/Movies/Magazines.
Start a conversation.
Make sure they know they are never to force anyone or even ask in a way that implies that she should, that her worth is wrapped up in it.
They wait until she is ready.
Tell your girls too, that they should never influence a guy to do anything he doesn't want to do or isn't ready for.
It goes both ways.
Tell them, too, that they don't need to show anyone anything for any reason.
Dear Little Grace,
Your body is not your identify, your boobs are not your "fault".
You made some mistakes and that's ok, it's all part of the process.
You are not a slut.
Hey - 15 year old Grace, I hope you heard me too.
You are not a slut.
I love you.
From 33 year old Grace
And last but not least...
Just because the media makes us think big breasts are the best breasts doesn't mean people who have them are super stoked about it, or that they asked for them or "got lucky". It also doesn't mean people with small breasts are unhappy either. So please don't make assumptions and be careful with your choice of language.
I've always envied people with small breasts. People with small breasts sometimes envy us with big ones. We are never allowed to be happy with what we got. (and I'm gonna allow you right now to be happy, in this moment for whatever you got).
Usually boobs (small and big and medium) are a burden and that's just not fucking ok. I'm sick of hearing about types of boobs, types of nipples - the weird ones...THERE ARE NO WEIRD BOOBS by the way...all boobs are beautiful.
Be happy with what you have, there is not better, or best. We are all different. We are all perfect just as we are - that's not cheesy, that's real talk.
My breasts are not a burden, they are a part of my body - and I am learning to love every single part. It's a beautiful thing to unpack all this old shit, and take my power back.
And I think we all have these stories - the shameful stories we hold in the deep dark places.
You are beautiful,
Thanks for holding space.
I hope this served you in some way.
I love you.
With Love & Gratitude,
Grace Karyn
<3
ReplyDeleteThank you for telling that story. It's the story of many, many women and girls, and it's a very hard one to tell. <3
ReplyDeleteWow, what a great read, do you mind if we share this?
ReplyDeleteHey Gaby - no i don't mind at all, sorry I missed this comment before!
DeleteHey Gaby - no i don't mind at all, sorry I missed this comment before!
Delete