Why You Really Shouldn’t Give a Crap About Your Bra Size

By: Maya

Breasts or boobs, nearly every female is insecure about them, regardless of their size or shape. Since a very young age, we— as women— are objectified by everyone, like our sole purpose in life is to be sexually appealing to men, and to fulfill their d*cks’ needs.

Although we all agree that the thanks for the hardwiring of this kind of dehumanizing thoughts in our brains, goes to our parents and grandparents once we strike adolescence, and although we mostly manage to throw their depreciating words to the back of our heads, our subconscious still feeds and grows on them, plunging us into an ocean of manipulation: of constant belief that we’re not (nor will we ever be) good enough.

Back to the point. If you’re seeking society’s acceptance, your boobs will almost always stand in your way, but you shouldn’t really care about that, you’re good enough on your own— adding this now to the list of things I should tell myself more often lol.

Bras, short for brassière, are by definition, extremely annoying pieces of underwear clothing, that are used to enhance a woman’s breast size and ‘create’ cleavage. Bras literally mean breast lifters in Arabic. Serious question, though, if no one likes bras, why bother putting them on at all?

Bras come in different sizes and shapes, just like breasts. Bra sizes range all the way from A to H; women who have larger breasts have bras specifically tailored for them.

Society will trap you, you can hardly be enough to fit into its demented, patriarchal standards, so that’s exactly the problem.

If you have a large bra size, you’re a fucking slut: you can never wear even mildly deep v-necks, without at least half of your boobs showing; crop tops aren’t tops anymore, they’re just second bras (without the underwire); running or jumping or doing any kind of sport feels like a boob bouncing marathon, which gets painful after a while. Society views you as a sex goddess, which only means you get more objectified than a female with average boobs.

If you have a small bra size, you’re a non-fully grown, 12 year old child: you constantly get teased for having small boobs, by immature ass men you don’t owe shit, and if you have a relatively bigger ass, you can never buy a full bikini or lingerie set. 

Society relentlessly shames you, and you picture your life if you ever get a boob enlargement job, twice after waking up and once before going to sleep.

We’re materialised and treated like inferiors by men, who think with their dicks instead of their brains, who think they’re hilarious and super cool when they judge a woman by her bra size, who thinks they own you and your body and your entire existence, and that’s exactly why— gays and gals— we say FUCK THE PATRIARCHY with every sigh of suffering or disappointment, (damn Salma El-Wardany would be so proud of me now, hehe).

How could you feel ashamed of your boobs, when they’re as much a part of you as any other vital body organ? More importantly, how could you need validation from a man, ew.

I’m not shaming or blaming you, I get hoodwinked into this more times than I’m willing to admit. But the thing is, that we really shouldn’t let the hairy bird embody and disgrace us, to the extent of hating our own bodies and changing ourselves into what allures ‘them’. Who cares about them, fuck them.

I think we can all agree that how we view our bodies is profoundly influenced by the oppressing, male-made social perceptions of the ideal female body shape.
Therefore, breasts are a gift to exist, bras aren’t though— but thank god we’re in winter, I haven’t worn a bra since mid December lol.

Maya, x

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