My Butt, My Boobs, and Other Things that Aren’t Supposed to Exist
My body isn’t yours to critique
“Turn around.”
I spun before my cheerleading advisor, wearing the short, flouncy skirt I was being fitted for. At sixteen, I was five feet tall and 105lbs — but curvy. My breasts were larger than most girls, and my waist nipped in creating curvy hips.
My advisor, Mrs. Scott, tugged at the skirt’s hem. “It needs to be shorter.”
I cringed. The skirt barely covered my butt already, but I said nothing.
“Mia,” she said. “You need to lose some weight. Maybe five to ten pounds. Your boobs are bursting out of your top.”
I gazed down at the v-neck shell I was wearing. My breasts were a solid 32 C, but looked larger because of my small frame. “I’m sorry. I’ll try.”
Mrs. Scott nodded and motioned to the tailor. “Take it up another inch.” She turned toward the next girl, leaving me with the tailor. “Kristi, what have you been eating?”
I stood still as the tailor pinned my skirt. When she was finished, I ripped the uniform off, dropped my skirt on the growing pile of clothes needing alterations, and ran to my car where I proceeded to sob. I wasn’t fat, just too curvy. I had too much boob. Too much butt. How could I get rid of them?
In my early twenties, I decided that the best way to get comfortable with men ogling me was to lean into it. I wore tight clothes that showed my figure and believed that by creating my persona around my boobs and butt, men couldn’t objectify me because it was my narrative. I was forcing them to see me that way. I was in control.
And yet, I never felt in control. Instead, I felt like people only saw me for my body. Men talked to my boobs and women suggested I diet. It was the 90’s,the height of the waif model era, and I did not fit the body ideal promoted by the media even though I was thin.
My body — specifically my butt and boobs — were vulgar. Respectable women were lean and curveless.
For a few blissful years in my mid-twenties— while I was pregnant with my three sons — I didn’t worry about fitting an aesthetic because my body was creating and nourishing children. Still, people commented…