Let me start off by putting my breast foot forward and saying that all women should be proud of their breasts no matter the shape, the size, the texture or the color. As a grass-is-greener society we always want what we can't have. When it comes to breasts women want to make them bigger or smaller, less pointy, higher breasts, fuller breasts, smaller aureolas, pinker aureolas, shorter nipples or you may be one of the lucky ones who is pretty content with their breasts from the start
Starting from a very young age girls notice breasts. Whether they want them or they want to tie them down. I knew from a very young age I wanted them and would have done anything to speed up the challenge. My favorite gymnastic leotard had ruching right between my flat non-existent breasts , just a little line of pretend cleavage that made me feel like I was womanly. At nine, still flat-chested, I insisted on wearing a training bra that looked more like a cropped t-shirt then a brassier, but still I felt like I was a woman. Then came puberty and I waited and waited for them to come, but to no avail I was flatter then a pancake and took to wearing two bras at a time. I was teased by boys on my lack of breast tissue development, sigh. This is when I decided extra padded bras were the way to go. Hey, no one was seeing them anyways right? It was a hard couple of years impatiently waiting for these golden globes to show up and then they finally did. I went from a 32 AA to a 34C in six months at the age of 14. I also went up from a size 12 kids pant to a size 9 juniors in that period of time, which was awful, but thankfully, luckily, at least I had my breasts. My padding went down by two sizes that winter.
Puberty is all about body self-awareness and because you are so aware of your own body, you also become very aware of everyone else's bodies in comparison. You begin to worry if your nipple size is the right size. You notice that one of your breasts is larger than the other. Damn the right boob bra gap! It was also the year I started sleeping a bra because I thought if I held them in the right place I would slow down the sagging process. You find out that some of your friends have clear nipples. Others have hairs around their nipples. You watch girls whose breasts over-developed struggling to run in gym class without getting bashed in the face by her own body. You notice the girls with no breasts and feel sorry for them, but yet, are viciously jealous of their petite, slim hips and flat stomachs.
During this time you also are likely to explore your sexuality. Remember second base? When a cute teenage boy would so gently fumble to unlock the clasp of your bra and with the slightest pressure touch your breasts with a completely fascinated expression. As you become sexually active your boyfriends start priding themselves on their ability to unhook your bra one handed and fling it across the room. Breast play also gets a lot rougher. I cannot recall the number of times I felt like my nipples were being ripped from my body or bitten off. This would also be the age when men discovered porn. The longer in a relationship you also notice that less and less time is spent adoring the very commodity you waited so many years to obtain. I'd like to describe this as "T-Shirt Sex Time". This is when you have sex in your T-Shirt, because taking off your t-shirt, unhooking your bra and caressing your breasts is simply too time consuming.
Eventually you may have a baby, and finally someone wants to touch your breasts again in the most innocent manner. As you nurse, the baby caresses your breast much like those gentle touches years before and even throwing in a few gummy bites and pulls, but, hey, it's nothing you haven't experienced before. Your breasts begin to change, no longer the full, voluptuous pubescent breasts that once only needed a thin wire to dress them up for the night, suddenly they are stretched and worn and padding comes back into play. Your breasts no longer look up with pride, but have relaxed into a sleepy, "I'm tired and need to lay down position", much like when your baby fell asleep on your breasts in their Baby Bjorn.
In the past thirty-odd years you have gone from having no breasts, to tiny breasts, to full breast, to droopy breasts, but just like you, you have matured and changed and so have your breasts. I stopped sleeping in bras on most nights now. Not because I don't think my theory works, but because it's just damn uncomfortable. Also, just as you embraced tailored pants and fitted jackets over ripped jeans and crop tops, you must embrace your beautiful breasts at their every stage. They are yours and no matter what they look like they are yours and yours to keep. So love them and adore them, because you'll be hanging out with them for a long time and you never know what may happen in the future.
-Mandi Bridgeman
