Help
Sign In
body
March 2008 
“Breasts” - New York
Posted on Nov 16th, 2007
by 
Flying Confessions
Flying Confessions
I just want to talk about breasts for a minute.
Last week, I just saw this amazing film called “ABSOLUTELY SAFE”, by Carol Ciancuti Levy, about breast implant safety. It is a film I Executive Produced, so I’ve been viewing it over the years. But it just had it’s premiere screening in New York and watching it finished in the darken theater, I was horror struck again. It made me think about what has happened to us in our culture. How is it that we as women have somehow gotten brainwashed about how we think about our bodies to the point that we willingly mutilate them in the name of beauty…?
When I was a kid I remember loving my body. Not my face – I thought I was ugly for a long time – but I thought my body was perfect because it was well proportioned and thin. That is until I was about 11-years-old and I realized that my breasts weren’t growing. My older brother started to tease me mercilessly about this and it just became fodder for another one of our many fights. Indeed, it seemed like all my girlfriends were growing something beneath their shirts, and I was growing nothing…
My mother was always small breasted, and during my childhood my dad often made remarks or innuendos about how tiny she was. Sometimes he’d even tease her about how when he married her he got cheated in the breast department. Unbeknownst to him, she had worn falsies and, when he finally got his hand inside the bra, there was nothing there.
So, of course, when my time came around, I was very sensitive to the issue. And my bother, having picked up on my father, really took the opportunity to get back at me big time.
I remember when I first started to be sexual, thinking things like – “Well since I don’t have breasts, I have to ‘go further’ with the guy to make-up for my lack thereof…”
By the time I was 16 or 17, I was dying to have my breasts “fixed.” It was only 1977, but I already wanted breast implants. I don’t even know where I read about them or how I found out about them because that was so early in the popularization of implants. But somehow they were already well imbedded in the culture of women’s magazines that I read voraciously. I talked about it so much that my mom agreed to take me to see a plastic surgeon when I was about 19.
I remember she took me on the train to New York from Philly where we lived, and we went to the doctor’s office. As we sat in the waiting room, I looked at a brochure he had on the table with photos of various headless women ‘after surgery’ – and how I wanted the ‘after’ so badly.
When we finally enter the examining room he made me take off my shirt and looked at my chest. He kind of smiled and said, “Why you have beautiful breasts, you don’t need implants at all, let me show a picture of women who is flat chested who I would suggest implants for….” And he took out a book of pictures of other women and indeed they were completely flat, whereas I had these little round mounds. He told me that I should think about it for a few years, and if I still wanted them to come back and see him, and he would discuss it with me again.
I never did go back, and the desire disappeared. Thinking back, I don’t know if my mom had called ahead and told him what to say or exactly why the doctor had been so altruistic to turn me away, but the pictures he showed me helped my self-image a lot.
Over the years, I can’t say I’ve always loved my breasts. They are small, and I now wear a padded bra, which is another discussion in itself. But now that I am older, I am so grateful I didn’t cut them open to put plastic in them to make them bigger. I would have lost so much that I love about my breasts – like the sensation of softness, the sensitivity in my nipples, the very nature of what they are….
I remember, when I was very young, how my mom replied to one of my dad’s wisecracks about how small she was by saying, “Breasts have a function, they are made for nursing children, they are not for show…” Now, I think back and realize how wise my mother was, but I didn’t know it then. I wish I had.
I’d love to know what other women think about their breasts and how they related to their changing bodies growing up? I am really curious how each woman finds self-acceptance and even love of our “oh so imperfect but oh so very perfect forms” in a world that makes us believe that perfection can be created by man. Please write me back.
Last week, I just saw this amazing film called “ABSOLUTELY SAFE”, by Carol Ciancuti Levy, about breast implant safety. It is a film I Executive Produced, so I’ve been viewing it over the years. But it just had it’s premiere screening in New York and watching it finished in the darken theater, I was horror struck again. It made me think about what has happened to us in our culture. How is it that we as women have somehow gotten brainwashed about how we think about our bodies to the point that we willingly mutilate them in the name of beauty…?
When I was a kid I remember loving my body. Not my face – I thought I was ugly for a long time – but I thought my body was perfect because it was well proportioned and thin. That is until I was about 11-years-old and I realized that my breasts weren’t growing. My older brother started to tease me mercilessly about this and it just became fodder for another one of our many fights. Indeed, it seemed like all my girlfriends were growing something beneath their shirts, and I was growing nothing…
My mother was always small breasted, and during my childhood my dad often made remarks or innuendos about how tiny she was. Sometimes he’d even tease her about how when he married her he got cheated in the breast department. Unbeknownst to him, she had worn falsies and, when he finally got his hand inside the bra, there was nothing there.
So, of course, when my time came around, I was very sensitive to the issue. And my bother, having picked up on my father, really took the opportunity to get back at me big time.
I remember when I first started to be sexual, thinking things like – “Well since I don’t have breasts, I have to ‘go further’ with the guy to make-up for my lack thereof…”
By the time I was 16 or 17, I was dying to have my breasts “fixed.” It was only 1977, but I already wanted breast implants. I don’t even know where I read about them or how I found out about them because that was so early in the popularization of implants. But somehow they were already well imbedded in the culture of women’s magazines that I read voraciously. I talked about it so much that my mom agreed to take me to see a plastic surgeon when I was about 19.
I remember she took me on the train to New York from Philly where we lived, and we went to the doctor’s office. As we sat in the waiting room, I looked at a brochure he had on the table with photos of various headless women ‘after surgery’ – and how I wanted the ‘after’ so badly.
When we finally enter the examining room he made me take off my shirt and looked at my chest. He kind of smiled and said, “Why you have beautiful breasts, you don’t need implants at all, let me show a picture of women who is flat chested who I would suggest implants for….” And he took out a book of pictures of other women and indeed they were completely flat, whereas I had these little round mounds. He told me that I should think about it for a few years, and if I still wanted them to come back and see him, and he would discuss it with me again.
I never did go back, and the desire disappeared. Thinking back, I don’t know if my mom had called ahead and told him what to say or exactly why the doctor had been so altruistic to turn me away, but the pictures he showed me helped my self-image a lot.
Over the years, I can’t say I’ve always loved my breasts. They are small, and I now wear a padded bra, which is another discussion in itself. But now that I am older, I am so grateful I didn’t cut them open to put plastic in them to make them bigger. I would have lost so much that I love about my breasts – like the sensation of softness, the sensitivity in my nipples, the very nature of what they are….
I remember, when I was very young, how my mom replied to one of my dad’s wisecracks about how small she was by saying, “Breasts have a function, they are made for nursing children, they are not for show…” Now, I think back and realize how wise my mother was, but I didn’t know it then. I wish I had.
I’d love to know what other women think about their breasts and how they related to their changing bodies growing up? I am really curious how each woman finds self-acceptance and even love of our “oh so imperfect but oh so very perfect forms” in a world that makes us believe that perfection can be created by man. Please write me back.
Access: Public
Thought-provoking post!
First, remember that Cancerians RULE the breasts and stomach, but doesn't mean we have perfect ones, lol.
You were very fortunate to have a mom that you could go to and who listened and tried to help. Very fortunate. If I had gone to my mom about my disappointment, they'd be using it to stab me in the back to this day! So I kept it to myself and dealt with it in my own time, coming to love and accept myself as is. But it was a rough journey.
You're right…the media is making a lot of girls and women feel inadequate if they aren't perfect…but not many of those girls realize that the models don't really look like that…they don't see the reality of the makeup and airbrush and computer magic. There was a really good Dove (the soap) commercial that showed a model's process for a photo. Now, that's real! A great ad for natural beauty and there should be more of those…with not-so-perfect but REAL women.
I must say that my own feelings about my boobs kept me a very modest girl, LOL…and I'm quite happy about that…because if I had big boobs that made me happy, I probably would've been the biggest &*%$@ in the world!!! But I grew up learning about the other subtleties of Woman. I am Blessed nonetheless ;-)
Oh, and Victoria should keep that stuff a Secret and not plaster it on billboards!!!
Thank you for bringing up this important subject!!!! I could say many things. Here's one: Whenever it's appropriate with a young woman or girl, I try to impress upon them something I have learned in my 68 years: that for every shape of woman's body, from sticks to beach balls, there is a significant number of men for whom that shape is the biggest turn-on in the world, is absolutely perfect and ideal. Granted, there seems to be a media ideal, but if a woman knows she can find a guy who digs her exact shape and configuration, adores it, prefers it to all others, and thinks it's the sexiest of all, she stands a chance of resisting the media hype.
Granted, this is not crystal pure SELF acceptance, but it speaks to their need at that age. It's not ALL I would recommend older folks do, but ONE of the things that would help, I believe. Your Mom's bit about the purpose of breasts, and your realization that sensitivity and the capacity to impart pleasure to you might just be more important than size (as indeed it is to some men), those are important too. And many other points could be made.
Blessings, OM Bastet
I'm still pondering what I would have said to your Dad. Wearing falsies IS “cheating.” But he was cruel, and so was your brother. Cruel.
You say…
“I have read your comment and would like to thank you for inputting your thoughts and feelings about my blog. On my official website I have read stories, both of self-acceptance and of self-rejection, make me wonder how we form our opinions of our self? Would we have likes and dislikes of our body parts without the opinions of others, whether they be family, friends or society coming through the media?
For example: Why did I love my body as a kid? Where did I get my sense of beauty from back then? Is anything really pure vision?
Sorry to ask so many questions, but I suspect that some of our reactions to beauty are coming from within the self. I suspect that there is an innate sense of proportion and form that goes beyond learning, but it is just so hard to know which is true and which is `man-made' so to speak?
I am curious if anyone has a feeling that any part of their love or hate of their body really comes from an ‘authentic self' perception versus a socialized perception? I would love to hear your thoughts.”
I say…
I think our views on our bodies are learned. If you notice babies and little children…they absolutely love and are fascinated with themselves. It's only when there are others that make comparisons (thereby teaching them to compare).
It takes Years of devious programming, suggestions and “teasing” to sneak into one's love and appreciation of self.
A small-breasted woman would be alright with herself (just happy she's become a woman, remember that age?)…until someone starts in on the name calling and comparisons. That woman will start to have doubts and lose that self-love and self-acceptance.
I'm also afraid that women place too much importance on a man's opinion of their bodies. If George Clooney one day announced that he was turned on by a woman's large ears, I bet my bottom dollar that all kinds of archaic devices would be invented to stretch ones ears…maybe even ear transplants/implants. You can see this all the time in Tribes…one bunch are into big lips, big hips, big tits, a disc in the bottom lip, a long neck, small feet, small waists…
It's so ridiculous. But what's the common factor? What the damn MEN say they want.
Oh, my women, my ladies, my sisters…we gotta stop listening to Men so much!!! We need to stand strong. If he can't love you for you and who/what you are…move on! Someone will…just like Vector said…there's a man made for every type of woman made. We don't all need to measure up and compare to some dude's “ideal” woman image. Who died and made him the crown prince?
LOL ;-) Hope I've helped! Battling a major head cold so I don't know if I'm making coherent sense…but I think so =)
BTW, I confused you with a Cancerian friend in my first comment (thus the Cancerian reference)…whoops!…Unless you ARE a Cancerian…then WooHoo! LOL ;-)
Dear Resurrected1:
Thank you! I'd love it if I can put this on my official website where I also have this entry on our blog section, I think this would encourage alot of other women who have read this entry and can related to your thoughts.
Happy Holidays!!
Do what you will…I don't mind one bit…I want women to be aware of this, as do you.
Blessings to you for bubbling it up into awareness.
Happy Holidays to you as well, my Sister!