Someone recently made an unexpected and rather awkward observation of yours truly. In fact this particular observation and subsequent comment got me confused as whether to gulp down the rest of the wine in my glass and ask for fifteen more rounds or to shrug off the comment.’ Maybe just fall off the damn chair once and for all?! Instead, I just sat there with what I reckon was a stupefied look on my face.
Perhaps someone else would be flattered at being told that child-birth certainly was beneficial in increasing, ehm (cough)…breast size. I wasn’t. I could hardly conceal my embarrassment as I presume that should be the last place anyone dares to direct their stares. My modesty notwithstanding, I immediately shrugged it off with, “nah, not really”. That, my friends, is the truth and nothing but the truth.
The truth is, this girl simply grew up and learnt to shop for a good, padded and flattering bra. Yep, no amount of suckling from SuperGirl could have even vaguely taken me to a decent size 34A. Oh well!
The one thing that motherhood surprisingly gave me was renewed body image. Until that tipsy comment about my slight bosom, I had distanced myself from obsessing about its nonexistence. Same thing about those fantasies about lying on Dr. Rey’s operating table waiting for him to drill silicone into my body that I’d happily parade around in a scant bikini afterwards. Yet I relapsed, if only for a short time.
Don’t we all have a certain part of our body that we would rather trade-in for something better? Yes, I also know those of you who stuff their bras with tissue and those Viagra poppers when nobody’s watching only to dish up political correctness to the less enlightened. It’s okay. We understand. We know you are perfect the way you are, and you wouldn’t want to change a thing! Mhmm… of course you are, we all are!
Either way, it is true that if one’s esteem is linked to the external- that is, what people think of you- then trouble isn’t too far off. That’s why it’s important to build that self-esteem so it’s not blown over by idle winds.
I grew up with “boob issues” half of my life. I have vague memories of my childhood when once or twice during play a certain insect was said to be able to make breasts grow, provided you let it suckle on your nipples for a bit.
The impressionable me bought into this childish hogwash until it was forgotten, thereafter it was back to ogling my friends’ abundant bosoms. I mean, some of these girls had huge boobs even before leaving primary school and there was me with a flat chest! Then I could probably blame my grandmothers for not sweeping my chest with a broom just before puberty, as it is apparently supposed to be done.
During the moments that my ego took a hard knock, future plastic surgery seemed a possible option but good Lord I’d never ever, ever be able to face the embarrassment if I had to kick the bucket on the operating table while doing a boob job!!! Noooooo!
The observer was certainly right; motherhood was a blessing in disguise.
Instead of seeking affirmation from all the wrong places, I learnt that I’m the first place where my daughter needs to get affirmation from and this is the most important place she will get it from. It has taught me that no matter how she looks, hearing the words “You are beautiful” from me (and her dad) will be important blocks to building her character and esteem.
Being an adult has taught me that I don’t need to over-compensate for anything that is lacking. Boob issues? So frivolous! J