TITS IN THE WIND

Do you have any idea what it’s like to have had big tits ever since you were thirteen? It's sort of a nuisance. But I’m not really here to speak about that, today's subject is a mere byproduct of having said jugs. I want to discuss how sexualized you are if you happen to have big tits. Ladies with the fake ones; I get it, but you are not included in this one: you chose the attention. Mother Nature made my call.

This piece addressees the difference—the implication—between small breasts and big bouncing bazooms. Small-breasted women get away with murder. Plain and simple. It’s not their fault. It’s just the way things are. Place myself and a small-breasted lovely in tank tops (no bra) and out for a walk, guess who’s going to get more attention? Even if she's a super model, she’ll get her fair share, but she’s "beautiful" or a "bohemian pixie", meanwhile, I’m sex on a stick: a walking sperm receptacle. Teats to suck on, squeeze and motorboat. I should interject here that I'm not against any of those things, I'm just saying it would be nice not to elicit a sexual response by simply walking ten feet without a bra. Hell, even with a bra, my boobs bounce.

What is it about having globs of flesh on your chest that instantly attracts attention and transforms a woman into a sex symbol? Is it animalistic? I look like I could feed a village? Why can’t I go braless without the hoochie mama subtext? Why can't my girls be free without getting cat calls? A little side boob on a small-breasted woman is editorial, while my side boob is pornographic. Granted, I've made a good living off of these babies, but there are dresses and blouses that simply look better without straps, not to mention bras can be uncomfortable. Yes, I know strapless bras exist, but they are crazy annoying if you have a natural D cup, and it's still an apparatus around your rib cage. I know life isn't fair and we have sayings for this kind of shit...I just had to get this off my chest.