Yup. It was a cute little ditty. I mean titty? Ditty? In high school he was pretty zitty. But he never lost his cuteness. We're still friends and he became a sweet chiropractor. Love the guy. xo
Fabulous read! It's astonishing how much dichotomy there is around the topic of boobs. There's so much truth here that often gets glossed over because for so many the topic of boobs is uncomfortable.
I'm a two time winner/my essays were accepted for Marion Roach's BraVa! event. I think you should also submit this there.
Quite the read! Breasts cause us so much angst during certain times in our lives. One of my very first memories is running around topless on hot summer evenings. Such freedom. I wrote about that (and a whole lot more) in my memoir. I wonder if any woman is ever truly satisfied with her breasts. I always felt mine were too small. Now I know there's really no such thing. Self-acceptance takes a while, I guess.
It's been 15 years since my bilateral mastectomy, and even though I've had reconstruction, I miss my breasts every single day. Grateful to be alive, for sure. But gratitude and grief can and do co-exist. I've been reminding my readers who've had mastectomies for years that it's okay to grieve for breasts too.
Thank you for writing about a topic that shouldn't be so hard to write about. Look forward to the round-up. xo
Phew - this one, though you handled it with touches of humor and your characteristic openness, brought back a flood of unpleasant memories for sure. What a shame that we women spend our entire lives feeling the need to mold ourselves around and into ill-fitting cultural norms.
I'm pretty sure you're not going to end up in hell, and isn't it heavenly not wearing one of those torture devices? Swing free in the breeze, Mimi! Swing free! xo
Boobs make a quick cameo in my piece this week, so while talk of tatas is always welcome, your essay was especially timely for me. I've never heard them referred to as "Nancies" before. I like that I can always learn something new about them.
ME too! I'd never heard that one before but on doing all my boob slang research I discovered it. I knew about "Nancy Boys" being gay slang, though. I did position "Nancies" over "Breasts" to be a little nod to the part at the end of the essay referring to my boobs being MINE. xo
I went to a bra store with a girlfriend once, customer service was key. The women who owned the store and worked there were wonderful, engaging and over-the-top personality-wise. I over bought things I didn't really want. Wore one of the bras, once and promptly shoved them to the back of my underused underwear drawer to join the sports bras and socks (that I hate wearing) and the bloomers that hardly ever get to cover my "live-free-or-die" vajayay. Euell Gibbons, the nature boy, had nothing on me. Commando, all the way! xo
I love this! Bold and boobiful 😉 and as another reader said, poignant. I'm sorry you had those awful experiences with the shop assistant and your mom. Not OK.
I know, I'm quite proud of inventing that word on the spot (probably not the first person though) 😂 yeah, it's worse when it's those who are supposed to care and protect us...
That's hilarious! A suggestion, if I may? Maybe the language should be less of a "must" and more of a "special consideration given to nursing mothers." Or some such...and admit your curiosity! xo
Nice Nan! When you told me about this I wondered what direction you’d take. Some really hilarious moments. The mom story traumatized me - again, as I’d already heard it. Ick to the surface. Bra…va. (boom. Bravavoome)!
I thought the story needed balance and it was a perfect, although unfortunate example of being denied agency over our own bodies. Our parents are supposed to teach us things like "no means no" and model that behavior to their children. It took me way too long to know that my boundaries mean something. When I was younger, the concept was unknown to me. I had no idea I could draw my own line. LOVE you! xo
This was so good Nan! You know I'm s sucker for stories about breasts and/or nipples. It's taken me years, but I love my breasts. They're real and they're spectacular. XO 🥰❤️
I was hoping you’d get the Seinfeld reference (the episode with Teri Hatcher in the sauna). I do like my breasts, but I’m not sure I’d call them spectacular. I will accept the compliment from you though.
I'm sorry to let you down, I'm a dweeb. I hated Seinfeld. I hardly ever watched it. They were all so mean to each other. I couldn't hack it. I liked Friends, it was cozy and silly and no one was mean. Except maybe Monica's mother. And Phoebe's twin sister. Those women had nice boobs. I think. xo
So sorry, Nan, that your mother assaulted you, for that is what it was, assault. My heart goes out to you.
I haven’t had any breasts for almost twenty years due to breast cancer. I was lucky though, I was older, 50 plus, and had breast fed two children for a total of seven years. I didn’t mourn the loss of my breasts, I was just happy to have treatment that would help me survive. I chose not to have reconstructive surgery and don’t mind going flat chested without bra and prostheses when I think I will be more comfortable.
Tattoos are wonderful! It's a way for me to record some of the stories of my life, my spiritual growth/progress and to define the things that are important and grounding as signposts I can look to as reminders of the way I'm defining and creating the life I'm living. I liken them to love talismans. xo
Yes, thank you, Maureen, I am very aware that it was an assault, and sadly, it wasn't the only time. My mother doesn't get boundaries at all. I'm glad you're here, alive, and I think I would make a similar choice to pass on reconstruction as well. xo
I have a friend who lost one breast and instead of doing a reconstruction, she used the new terrain for a major (and beautiful) chest tattoo. Why are you in awe of the 80 plus year old women? They're making a choice and you did, too. You honored yourself by opting out if it wasn't for you. I think that's brave and wonderful. xo
Formative boob experience: going first bra shopping with my mother when I was 13, not because I needed a bra, but because all the girls in my eighth grade class had one. My mother, in the lingerie department: "You don't actually NEED a bra." Me, hissing: "YES I DO ACTUALLY." Fortunately this conversation was conducted in Russian, so my mortification was witnessed only by Russian speakers in the lingerie department at Emporium-Capwell in Mountain View, CA, of whom I think there were not many.
Later, I learned to tell people I inherited my bosom (or lack thereof) from my father. Even later, I went from a B-cup (on a good day) to an E-cup seemingly overnight after giving birth. I could wear my nursing bras as a hat. I did not enjoy this, ahem, development AT ALL, and in a full circle moment, could not wait to go back to my barely-B cup. Life (and boobs) are weird like that. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
It was a pleasure to attend your TEDTalk. Thank you. Yes, the mothers. So many mothers and maturing stories, and absolutely none are positive. My father had to tell me to go for a first visit to a gyno when I was 24. He was appalled that my mother had never seen to that when I was a teenager. She tried to educate me about sex when I was in 3rd grade. That's a horror story for another day...or never, it's that awful. xo
You made me think of my own booby stories. We all have them, don't we? Mine includes breast reduction surgery (preceded by a childhood of unwanted sexual attention and a lot of grabbing, including by my own mother, so I empathize, friend). I honestly don't understand women who get enlargements, because I was big and it was NO FUCKING FUN.
Do you think women get enlargements because men are pushing them to do it? And maybe some body dysphoria mixed in? I realize it's a very general question. And yes, too much touching by mother. "Oh, no, it's just affection." Yeah, NO. It's not. Especially when I say stop. GAH. xo
I only know one person who did it, and I'm pretty sure her husband didn't press her to do it. She told me that the doctors said it was "proportional to her overall body size." It was not. She was a petite person with small breasts who became a petite person with enormous breasts. She had issues afterwards, too, where they had to go back in to support the new boobs with "scaffolding." She's had quite a few surgeries. Body dysmorphia, yes, but also cultural messaging about how we "should" look. She's a big flirt and knows what men are looking for. She wanted to be that. I think it stems from low self esteem, which is rampant. (And how could it not be?) Women who don't believe they have any power of their own, so try to be "power adjacent" by being desirable to men, whom they see as having all the power (and mostly, they do, insofar as money and status).
I think this about everyone who does it: Talk to someone who's large. Ask them how comfortable they are. Life is hard enough without adding weight to our shoulders and backs. It will not age well. But most people are not thinking about the future.
As for your mother (and mine): "especially when I say stop." This, all day long. If they don't care how they're making us feel, then they don't care, period.
Oy vey. "Proportional to her overall body size" means that her wallet was proportional to the cost of the surgery. GAH. Doctors. I'd hedge a bet the doctor was male, but there are plenty of women who are plastic surgeons too. Scaffolding? Oops. Self-esteem is definitely part of this pull to be different. The pressure exerted on women to look a certain way is insane. Wait until I write a story about makeup. As for my mother, and yours; you're right. They may say they care, but really not. It's so disrespectful. I stopped going to her apartment if it was just the two of us. She has no clue about personal space and the hula-hoop distance away from other people. It's sad to be afraid to be alone with one's own mother. It's been that way for a long time. I love my family of choice. They don't have any issues with letting me be me. I like that. A lot. xo
I do, too. Anne Lamott writes about why family treats us so badly, and she thinks it's because they believe they can get away with it. And mostly, they can. Almost no one walks away. If we did more often, that belief would change. Maybe it'll never happen en masse, but as individuals, we can safeguard our one wild and precious life. x
I'm trying to stay away. It's very, very hard, especially because of what's happening with my brother. But it's never going to change. I'm trying very hard to learn how to become more neutral about her. So that I can truly wish her well, and extend compassion. I need to know that I can hold her (figuratively, of course) in that place of compassion and not need to engage. And yes, about our one wild and precious life. The one I've so recently claimed. I feel that way about the pull to leave the US. It's similar. Taking one small step after another, because it's all I can do. Love you, Wendy. xo
Geez Louise. Tit girl? Jokes on him, I’m sure..
Yup. It was a cute little ditty. I mean titty? Ditty? In high school he was pretty zitty. But he never lost his cuteness. We're still friends and he became a sweet chiropractor. Love the guy. xo
Fabulous read! It's astonishing how much dichotomy there is around the topic of boobs. There's so much truth here that often gets glossed over because for so many the topic of boobs is uncomfortable.
I'm a two time winner/my essays were accepted for Marion Roach's BraVa! event. I think you should also submit this there.
Thanks, Mira! And for the suggestion of submitting. Marion Roach of The Memoir Project? That's very kind of you. Oh, boobs! xo
Yes, the same Marion Roach. The event is is November so essay submissions are closed. But you could always apply for next year. https://www.eventbrite.com/e/ywca-gcrs-10th-annual-brava-tickets-1735014046719
Thanks! I will. This is terrific, Mira. xo
Hi Nan,
Quite the read! Breasts cause us so much angst during certain times in our lives. One of my very first memories is running around topless on hot summer evenings. Such freedom. I wrote about that (and a whole lot more) in my memoir. I wonder if any woman is ever truly satisfied with her breasts. I always felt mine were too small. Now I know there's really no such thing. Self-acceptance takes a while, I guess.
It's been 15 years since my bilateral mastectomy, and even though I've had reconstruction, I miss my breasts every single day. Grateful to be alive, for sure. But gratitude and grief can and do co-exist. I've been reminding my readers who've had mastectomies for years that it's okay to grieve for breasts too.
Thank you for writing about a topic that shouldn't be so hard to write about. Look forward to the round-up. xo
Phew - this one, though you handled it with touches of humor and your characteristic openness, brought back a flood of unpleasant memories for sure. What a shame that we women spend our entire lives feeling the need to mold ourselves around and into ill-fitting cultural norms.
YUP to the ill-fitting cultural norms. So glad you're back from your journey. Welcome home! xo The one this week is about cosmetics! 🤪 😱 🙄
It seems like we have matching interests with womans health? I just wrote about my 2.5 years without bras or panties, and why I’ve never been calmer👙👋
Sounds insane? Maybe.
Read the madness 👇
https://calmfeed.substack.com/p/why-i-stopped-wearing-underwear-benefits
Bras were designed by Satan, I'm convinced. If I end up in hell, don't think I'm not going to give him a piece of my mind.
My mother thought mine were different sizes. To this day, I occasionally look.
I'm pretty sure you're not going to end up in hell, and isn't it heavenly not wearing one of those torture devices? Swing free in the breeze, Mimi! Swing free! xo
Boobs make a quick cameo in my piece this week, so while talk of tatas is always welcome, your essay was especially timely for me. I've never heard them referred to as "Nancies" before. I like that I can always learn something new about them.
ME too! I'd never heard that one before but on doing all my boob slang research I discovered it. I knew about "Nancy Boys" being gay slang, though. I did position "Nancies" over "Breasts" to be a little nod to the part at the end of the essay referring to my boobs being MINE. xo
Very clever! I didn’t catch that.
So great. Thank you. Needed a big smile today.
I'm glad I could supply it! Love you, Bar. xo
I’m convinced the bra department only hires sadists. Get your measuring tape away from me!
Bra straps gave up working. They had only one job!
Oh, my. Was it dicey for you? Or your boobs? Did they lose altitude? xo
I was going to shop for bras today (threw one in the trash at work in a huff) but I just can’t.
Why were you in a huff, hunny?
I went to a bra store with a girlfriend once, customer service was key. The women who owned the store and worked there were wonderful, engaging and over-the-top personality-wise. I over bought things I didn't really want. Wore one of the bras, once and promptly shoved them to the back of my underused underwear drawer to join the sports bras and socks (that I hate wearing) and the bloomers that hardly ever get to cover my "live-free-or-die" vajayay. Euell Gibbons, the nature boy, had nothing on me. Commando, all the way! xo
Live free or die vajayjay!!! I’m dying. Should we take it to New Hampshire to celebrate?
I really could empty the entire drawer out and make room for other things, it's taking up way to much space for a drawer I never open! xo
I love this! Bold and boobiful 😉 and as another reader said, poignant. I'm sorry you had those awful experiences with the shop assistant and your mom. Not OK.
Thanks, Micah. I love "boobiful!" I'm sorry about them too. The experience with the salesperson was not nearly as hard as the one with my mother. xo
I know, I'm quite proud of inventing that word on the spot (probably not the first person though) 😂 yeah, it's worse when it's those who are supposed to care and protect us...
I'm glad you're proud. You should be. And I'd just assume it's original...why not?
Yes, it's so much worse. xo
Why not indeed 😉❤️
Also wondering if I can add 'must be breastfeeding' to my dating profiles from now on...? Coz I'm curious 😂🙃
That's hilarious! A suggestion, if I may? Maybe the language should be less of a "must" and more of a "special consideration given to nursing mothers." Or some such...and admit your curiosity! xo
I like that revised wording, thank you 👌 maybe you've started a trend lol
Oh Nan! Splendiferous and apropos. Your words are a salve and work magic with me. Hugs to you dear friend.
Hugs right back to you, Deborah. Thanks for reading AND commenting. xo
Nice Nan! When you told me about this I wondered what direction you’d take. Some really hilarious moments. The mom story traumatized me - again, as I’d already heard it. Ick to the surface. Bra…va. (boom. Bravavoome)!
I thought the story needed balance and it was a perfect, although unfortunate example of being denied agency over our own bodies. Our parents are supposed to teach us things like "no means no" and model that behavior to their children. It took me way too long to know that my boundaries mean something. When I was younger, the concept was unknown to me. I had no idea I could draw my own line. LOVE you! xo
This was so good Nan! You know I'm s sucker for stories about breasts and/or nipples. It's taken me years, but I love my breasts. They're real and they're spectacular. XO 🥰❤️
I'm glad you enjoyed it, Amy. I thought of you while I was writing it. And yes, your breasts ARE spectacular! Love that you love them. xo
I was hoping you’d get the Seinfeld reference (the episode with Teri Hatcher in the sauna). I do like my breasts, but I’m not sure I’d call them spectacular. I will accept the compliment from you though.
I'm sorry to let you down, I'm a dweeb. I hated Seinfeld. I hardly ever watched it. They were all so mean to each other. I couldn't hack it. I liked Friends, it was cozy and silly and no one was mean. Except maybe Monica's mother. And Phoebe's twin sister. Those women had nice boobs. I think. xo
So sorry, Nan, that your mother assaulted you, for that is what it was, assault. My heart goes out to you.
I haven’t had any breasts for almost twenty years due to breast cancer. I was lucky though, I was older, 50 plus, and had breast fed two children for a total of seven years. I didn’t mourn the loss of my breasts, I was just happy to have treatment that would help me survive. I chose not to have reconstructive surgery and don’t mind going flat chested without bra and prostheses when I think I will be more comfortable.
Yes, that’s true, Nan, it’s important that everyone gets their choice, thank you. The tattoo is a wonderful idea !
Tattoos are wonderful! It's a way for me to record some of the stories of my life, my spiritual growth/progress and to define the things that are important and grounding as signposts I can look to as reminders of the way I'm defining and creating the life I'm living. I liken them to love talismans. xo
A beautiful description, Nan x
Yes, thank you, Maureen, I am very aware that it was an assault, and sadly, it wasn't the only time. My mother doesn't get boundaries at all. I'm glad you're here, alive, and I think I would make a similar choice to pass on reconstruction as well. xo
Thank you, Nan. I am in awe of women 80 plus years of age, having reconstructions, but even at a younger age, knew it wasn’t for me.
I have a friend who lost one breast and instead of doing a reconstruction, she used the new terrain for a major (and beautiful) chest tattoo. Why are you in awe of the 80 plus year old women? They're making a choice and you did, too. You honored yourself by opting out if it wasn't for you. I think that's brave and wonderful. xo
Formative boob experience: going first bra shopping with my mother when I was 13, not because I needed a bra, but because all the girls in my eighth grade class had one. My mother, in the lingerie department: "You don't actually NEED a bra." Me, hissing: "YES I DO ACTUALLY." Fortunately this conversation was conducted in Russian, so my mortification was witnessed only by Russian speakers in the lingerie department at Emporium-Capwell in Mountain View, CA, of whom I think there were not many.
Later, I learned to tell people I inherited my bosom (or lack thereof) from my father. Even later, I went from a B-cup (on a good day) to an E-cup seemingly overnight after giving birth. I could wear my nursing bras as a hat. I did not enjoy this, ahem, development AT ALL, and in a full circle moment, could not wait to go back to my barely-B cup. Life (and boobs) are weird like that. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
It was a pleasure to attend your TEDTalk. Thank you. Yes, the mothers. So many mothers and maturing stories, and absolutely none are positive. My father had to tell me to go for a first visit to a gyno when I was 24. He was appalled that my mother had never seen to that when I was a teenager. She tried to educate me about sex when I was in 3rd grade. That's a horror story for another day...or never, it's that awful. xo
You made me think of my own booby stories. We all have them, don't we? Mine includes breast reduction surgery (preceded by a childhood of unwanted sexual attention and a lot of grabbing, including by my own mother, so I empathize, friend). I honestly don't understand women who get enlargements, because I was big and it was NO FUCKING FUN.
🍌🍌🍌
Do you think women get enlargements because men are pushing them to do it? And maybe some body dysphoria mixed in? I realize it's a very general question. And yes, too much touching by mother. "Oh, no, it's just affection." Yeah, NO. It's not. Especially when I say stop. GAH. xo
I only know one person who did it, and I'm pretty sure her husband didn't press her to do it. She told me that the doctors said it was "proportional to her overall body size." It was not. She was a petite person with small breasts who became a petite person with enormous breasts. She had issues afterwards, too, where they had to go back in to support the new boobs with "scaffolding." She's had quite a few surgeries. Body dysmorphia, yes, but also cultural messaging about how we "should" look. She's a big flirt and knows what men are looking for. She wanted to be that. I think it stems from low self esteem, which is rampant. (And how could it not be?) Women who don't believe they have any power of their own, so try to be "power adjacent" by being desirable to men, whom they see as having all the power (and mostly, they do, insofar as money and status).
I think this about everyone who does it: Talk to someone who's large. Ask them how comfortable they are. Life is hard enough without adding weight to our shoulders and backs. It will not age well. But most people are not thinking about the future.
As for your mother (and mine): "especially when I say stop." This, all day long. If they don't care how they're making us feel, then they don't care, period.
Oy vey. "Proportional to her overall body size" means that her wallet was proportional to the cost of the surgery. GAH. Doctors. I'd hedge a bet the doctor was male, but there are plenty of women who are plastic surgeons too. Scaffolding? Oops. Self-esteem is definitely part of this pull to be different. The pressure exerted on women to look a certain way is insane. Wait until I write a story about makeup. As for my mother, and yours; you're right. They may say they care, but really not. It's so disrespectful. I stopped going to her apartment if it was just the two of us. She has no clue about personal space and the hula-hoop distance away from other people. It's sad to be afraid to be alone with one's own mother. It's been that way for a long time. I love my family of choice. They don't have any issues with letting me be me. I like that. A lot. xo
I do, too. Anne Lamott writes about why family treats us so badly, and she thinks it's because they believe they can get away with it. And mostly, they can. Almost no one walks away. If we did more often, that belief would change. Maybe it'll never happen en masse, but as individuals, we can safeguard our one wild and precious life. x
I'm trying to stay away. It's very, very hard, especially because of what's happening with my brother. But it's never going to change. I'm trying very hard to learn how to become more neutral about her. So that I can truly wish her well, and extend compassion. I need to know that I can hold her (figuratively, of course) in that place of compassion and not need to engage. And yes, about our one wild and precious life. The one I've so recently claimed. I feel that way about the pull to leave the US. It's similar. Taking one small step after another, because it's all I can do. Love you, Wendy. xo
That's all any of us can do. One small step at a time. Love you, too, banana.