The Politics of Big Boobs

I have enormous breasts. 36E. No, that is not a typo. E, as in the letter after DD, and arguably, DDD. DDD never fits, even though it is supposedly the same size as E.

This bosom of mine has caused me pain. Physical pain in my back, neck, and shoulders. It has caused me pain in the way people perceive me because of their size.  A regular tank top  gets me hisses. A low-cut one gets me hoots and hollers of “Dannnnng Dose Some Big Titties.” Remember the “pencil test” in high school, where girls would stick a pencil under their breasts to test how perky they were? Evidently if the pencil stayed, your boobies were too saggy.

I could hold a whole pencil box.

I’ve had men compliment me on my vocabulary, surprised that I can string a sentence or two together. They seem to have the mindset of the bigger the boobs, the smaller the brain.

I’m not just calling out men, though. Women are just as bad about making assumptions. They are the ones hissing “slut.” They are the ones who make offhand comments about how my husband is with me for my breasts, that I got hired because of them.

Ha! I wish I could get hired because of them! In fact, I’m pretty sure they have hindered job interviews. These boobs of mine are right out there. They are confrontational. They DEMAND attention, even when I wear a turtleneck.  They present the wrong kind of image, one of a loose, motherly woman, perhaps, or when I was younger, a fast slut.

Grown men used to make lewd comments to 15 year old me, trying to proposition me. All sorts of preconceived notions come with this size, you know. Notions about what kind of background I’m from (white trash), my educational level (see prior category), my sexual orientation (If I don’t wear a bra I’m a lesbian. If I do wear a bra I’m a breeding anti-feminist, a slave to the patriarchy’s desires).

I wear glasses in part to make people take me seriously. I have always cultivated my vocabulary. I don’t wear makeup, and only recently have worn clothing that accentuates my body.

I think my breast size was a factor in the fact that I got raped. I think they sent the message that I was “asking for it.” I wasn’t. They weren’t sending that message. They aren’t sending any messages, unless they are in fact alien pods communicating with the mothership.  I didn’t ask for them to grow on my small frame, but I’m not going to beg to be treated respectfully. I’m going to demand.

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3 Responses to “The Politics of Big Boobs”


  1. 1 Angie in Texas August 23, 2008 at 3:17 pm

    good LORD! i used to work in a clinic and i remember there were a lot of women who complained about the back pain associated with large breasts. some of my friends also had similar complaints. a friend of mine had hers reduced and she said she never felt better! (*her insurance even covered it . . . i guess they got tired of paying for rehab and what not for her back pain.)

    good luck.

  2. 2 Mama Nabi August 25, 2008 at 7:14 pm

    … oh, no… so you know, I wasn’t flirting with you just for the boobs. (FYI: LN is into boobies right now, as in wanting to feel them… so don’t be alarmed. It’s not because I read her this post. :-))

  3. 3 Angie in Texas September 1, 2008 at 9:33 am

    since i read this post, i was struck by the name of the guy who (date) raped me in high school. i was sitting in my bed reading a book moments before drifting asleep and his name popped into my head. jeff m***f.

    i did not ask for it. you did not ask for it. and though i cried and cried while he did it, the next monday at school when i saw him in the hallway across from my chem class, he waved at me (like he had been for weeks) and acted as if nothing had happened.


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