The Tale As Old As Time: “My Eyes Are Up Here”

I’m about to make a pretty bold statement, so if you’re offended easily, I suggest you stop reading right now.

I have boobs. 

Shocking, I know. How dare I admit such a thing? How dare I actually acknowledge the fact that I am a female, and have a chest? And yeah, they’re on the bigger side. Again, sue me.

I didn’t always have boobs like the ones I have now. It really wasn’t until later on in high school when I really grew into them, and of course college and a bit of a weight gain, here we are.

Yes, I wear clothes that can highlight my assets. You know what they say, if you got it flaunt it, am I right? But I don’t wear anything crazy and ridiculous. I don’t go out wearing plunging neck lines that go down to my bellybutton or nothing but a bra. I dress sexy. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Even when I don’t intentionally dress sexy, it looks like I’m trying to show off the girls. I could be wearing a simple tank top and it’s like HELLO. I can’t help it. They’re there.

This past weekend, I met some friends out for some drinks after work. I got out of work at 11PM, and changed while I was there. I wish I had a picture of what I was wearing, but let me paint you a picture…Black jeans, a halter body suit, and a leather jacket. Nothing crazy. The halter wasn’t even that low, but again…boobs.

Now it is about 11:30 at night. I parked about a block away from the bar my friends were at, so I had maybe a 2 minute walk by myself. TWO MINUTES. In two minutes a car drove past me, where someone in it rolled down the window and yelled at me “Yo, sugar tits!” and a group of about four guys walked passed me where I heard one say “Bro, did you see that girls tits?” He must have saw me roll my eyes so hard they almost permanently stayed in the back of my head because he then said “Fuck, I think she heard me. Sorry!” I continued walking.

We later went to another bar, and me and my friend decided to walk to the outside deck of it. I shit you not, I opened the door to another group mixed of guys and girls, and they all stared. You would think I was naked. The guys give that wide eyed “woah” look and the girls give me that “who the fuck does she think she is?” look.

Here is my argument. Why am I slut shamed for having big boobs? Am I supposed to go out in turtle necks all the time? Even if I do wear something with a higher neckline people still stare because guess what…you can still see my boobs! They aren’t going anywhere no matter how low or high the neckline is.

I don’t get bent out of shape if someone glances at my chest. They’re big, I know. But when we are having a conversation and you’re blatantly staring at them while you’re talking to me or I’m talking to you, yeah I have a problem. If you don’t even know me and have to make a gross, sexual comment about them, whether directly to me or not, yeah I have a problem.

That being said, I’ll continue to wear what I want, when I want to. Boobs and all. Crazy, I know. What can I say? I like to live on the wild side.

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