breasts

Beatrice Casini

In college(Bradley University in Peoria, Illinois, circa 1991) when I was a sophomore, I often had multiple colleagues over to my apartment on campus (Student Apartment Complex) to study and chat. The apartment had two rooms and I had two female roommates and all of us were usually in attendance in the evenings. Sometimes folks would fall asleep, including me, when I was tired, trusting that those who remained awake would hang out and then let themselves out when they were ready. One night, I was lying down with my eyes closed (I can’t remember if I was asleep and was woken up by the incident or if I was drifting when it began; This is the first time I am attempting to write this down, over 30 years later.) What I DO know is that my breasts suddenly were being caressed by a male student. The touching was absolutely unwanted and I was instantly fully awake and aware of it. No one had asked me anything and there certainly was nothing of a remotely sexual nature going on beforehand – indeed, I am sure said student was certain that I was asleep and that his actions were being unobserved. I was horrified, deeply uncomfortable, shocked, scared, frozen… My panicked heart was beating fast…and I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep until he stopped. I remember doing the fake sound-and-slightly-change-position thing to try and get them to naturally stop…but that didn’t work. For decades, I didn’t tell anyone. I now understand all the societal cues that conspire to teach girls and women “not to make a fuss”, to be embarassed by calling something like that out or engaging with a perpetrator, etc, etc. I knew who the person was. They were my peer, in my major, for years afterward (though I was always uncomfortable around them after that.) I never confronted or told them about it nor did I tell anyone else until decades later (only two people and with no specificity.) I know who they are. They live abroad in Dublin with a wife and children and can often be seen engaging in very intellectual, high-minded style commentary on social media. Every time I see that it makes me a little sick inside. For a long time, I put it on the back burner of my mind and said “No big deal” but, over the years, I have to admit, its bothered me more and more…and more. Now it makes me mad. The whole enormously tiny incident is so indicative of the casual pervasiveness of everyday sexual assault and my choice to let it go and let him off the hook, not only in the moment, but for decades afterward is heartbreaking to the woman I am now and women everywhere. I still know who it is and have a casual connection to his reality via Facebook. He dated my best friend back in the day. He has a family and is probably a decent person fella. So what. I have wanted to say out loud for a very long time that “nice”, “mild-mannered”, “sweet”, “generous”, “upright”, “thoughtful” [redacted by administrator] sexually assaulted me in college, got away with it and has made no effort to make amends to someone he supposedly likes. He has not ever acknowledged his deed in any way or apologized to me. I believe I have forgiven him but I had to do that work by myself and for myself with no effort from him and that sucked. He probably thinks we are friends to this day. We are not.

Dallia

This boy in our class makes racist jokes and told a french girl to shove a baguette up her vagina and ranks girls on the size of their breasts

Lana

When I was 13 I developed large breasts, I had a D cup size, nothing too crazy, but because of my body frame and the fact that I live in Spain, where big breasts aren’t too common and no underwear stores have my size (unless it’s minimiser bras) it was VERY noticeable. I was still barely over being a child, my first year as a teenager, and when I saw old men they would always remind me of my grandfather. That is, till the day I walked up my street and some old men mentioned how my breasts bounced and how they would like to help me carry them. I was so shocked, I didn’t understand why they would ever say that to me, I wasn’t aware of the world I was entering, how I unintentionally was invited to the sad real world. I feel like that day they took a big part of my childhood away. While growing up my breasts always seemed to be a problem, my mother would buy me minimiser bra’s so that my clothes would look better, therefore teaching me my clothes didn’t look good on me, instead of looking for clothes that suited my body type. I was either bought granny bra’s or lingerie, which never seemed to match how I felt. Then while I was growing up I noticed the stares I’d get from men so I started covering up, and one day in secondary school, one of my class mates told me that I had great boobs, but there was no point in having them because I was always hiding them. I remember feeling bad, like I was doing something wrong because I wasn’t showing them. Then one day when I was 18, I was going to the gym, which I hardly ever did, because it was so hard to find a sports bra that actually worked anyway, and I chose a particularly good sports bra, that held me tight but gave me a great cleavage, and I felt good. I only had a V-neck t-shirt because the others I had were dirty, and when my flatmate saw me, she was shocked. I asked her why and she explained that she expected other girls to go around flaunting but she hadn’t expected me to. She was completely unaware somehow of the injustice of her putting a t-shirt on and it being a normal day and of me putting it on and being called an attention seeker and that I wanted to flaunt what I had. All this made me want to hide my breasts, I didn’t have back problems but I just hated them. So I decided to get a breast reduction. I applied through our national health care and was accepted. When I told some of my friends they were horrified, others were really happy for me but they all had these strong opinions about how I looked, not about how it affected my health, which would be the best reason to have it. I realised then, that I truly didn’t want a breast reduction, I wanted to live a life where people would think they had the right to voice an opinion about my body, where I wouldn’t be given lascivious looks because of it, where it wouldn’t feel like because I had them, I was asking for attention, where I wouldn’t get home at the end of the day and take my minimiser bras off and breathe out in relief, because they were cutting into my skin. I realised that that world didn’t exist, and I wasn’t going to find it by having a breast reduction. We have to make it, and I could use some help.

lara

I remember when i was 14 my friend was staying the night at my house, and we were talking on the phone to 2 boys that were in our year. I cant quite remember how it was brought up but i remember one of the boys making a remark about how he reckoned my “pussy would be as smooth as a baby’s bottom”. I just laughed it off, but looking back now i cant believe that at the age of 14 boys are talking this way to girls. 3 years later, my breasts grew to be very very big (G/H cup), and i would have boys in my year yell comments about them during P.E or come up and touch them as i walked by them in the hall. This one time i stood up for myself when i was touched (coincidentally by the same boy who made those comments) and i was quite assertive in my response but all he did was laugh in my face. Having huge breasts became such a huge part of my life i found myself explaining to people that i hated them. If you also have large breasts you know the daily struggle with them, which is why i ended up getting a breast reduction. i feel sad when i think about the fact that 4 years of torment attributed to this decision (though there were so many other reasons) as this just shouldn’t be the case. At only 18 I’m already worrying about if i have a daughter and whether she with inherit these genes of mine and have to go through the same humiliation that i did. Its more impactful than men realise. Lets stand up for ourselves and for our bodies.

anon, via email

As a woman with large breasts i get cat called a lot. I have to go out of my way to pick an outfit that doesn’t make it look like i have big boobs. I get cat called so often when i walk around town that i made a highscore system for the most times i get called or my boobs get stared at (i consider staring more than 5 seconds), the highscore is 23 times in a 20 minute walk from one end to the other of town. I look dead at the guys eyes and they don’t even know I’m looking at them because their eyes are somewhere else. I get horns beeped at me and calls out the window and whistles. Words like “nice tits”, “dammn”. I think the staring bothers me the most. Once in Tesco i snapped because one guy stared directly at my breasts and smirking too. As i walked towards him his eyes not not shift. I walked straight up to him and asked what his fucking problem is and he still smiled and stared so i asked again then heard security behind me. They removed me from the store even though i explained what happened they didn’t care. Now when you have large breasts covering them just isn’t enough if i wear a turtle neck jumper u can still notice the girls. (Not that I should have to wear a high cut top anyway).

Sophie

I’m a seventeen year old girl and experienced something for the first time a few weeks ago. It was a Saturday and I was leaving the mall with my boyfriend and one of the drivers in the parking lot slowed down, leaned out of the window, and shouted to me “Hey bitch turn around!” and to my boyfriend “Hey I’m gonna fuck your bitch!” It’s nothing compared to what some women deal with on a daily basis, but it hurt me in a way that I didn’t expect it to. It’s really insulting and degrading in a way that I can’t explain. A few months earlier, I was at school with one of my boyfriend’s friends, Will, and while we were standing there, I noticed within the first 30 seconds that Will was staring at my breasts. I tried to ignore it, but then he said “You’ve grown a lot since your freshman year.” I was confused as to what he meant at first, but then he said, while still staring, “I meant your boobs got bigger.” I was worried. Nothing happened, but I still have to see him every day and It’s uncomfortable to talk to him.