SSociety has unwritten rules that we all must follow and that can dictate some of the most intimate choices in our lives – from family structure and career and lifestyle decisions to the underwear we wear. The latter may seem excessive, but it’s true that society tells girls of all ages that once their breasts start to form, wearing a bra is the right and decent thing to do.
As a little girl, I could hardly wait to start wearing a bra. For me it was a symbol of growing up, becoming a woman, and I started wearing one long before it was “necessary”. As a teenager I enjoyed buying every color and style available until I had dozens to choose from. At the time, I accepted the discomfort of having my breasts tied as one of the many unfair consequences of being a woman. I thought there was no other choice.
But in 2012, at age 30, routine shoulder surgery made me reconsider. My doctor told me not to wear a bra while the incisions were healing, which took about three weeks – and it was a revelation. It felt so natural not to get trapped. I enjoyed the feeling so much that I went braless for another two months while in a sling. I ‘justified’ it by reasoning that my arm was covering my front so no one would notice.
When the time finally came for the sling to go, I joked to my boyfriend that I should start wearing a bra again. To be honest, I didn’t find it funny; I was afraid of it. After almost a lifetime of discomfort, I was finally free from the tight, elastic straps that hugged my ribcage, the straps that dug into my shoulders or continually slipped off, and the underwires that poked and prodded at me. I really didn’t want to go back.
“Why do you even wear one if they are so uncomfortable?” my friend asked me. I dismissed his questions as naive; he would obviously know nothing about the societal expectations placed on women and our bodies. I had always understood – implicitly – that as a woman my breasts were not allowed to move freely in public. And all women know that nipples are more noticeable without a bra – they should never, we are told, show through our tops. There is a stigma of promiscuity on women who dare to show themselves naked under their shirt, no matter how absurd.
Compliance with social and cultural norms was only part of the issue. I was afraid my breasts would sag if I didn’t wear a bra. I had heard since childhood that a lack of support could cause breakdown of breast tissue, and I had no interest in accelerating the aging effects of gravity on my body. But a quick internet search on the subject revealed that this was a myth: another way to strengthen women’s relationships with braces.
My partner’s naivety – or idealism – got me thinking. Why do we care so much about other people’s opinions of our bodies, at the expense of our own comfort? Going braless is certainly not indecent. I had an epiphany: I didn’t have to subject myself to discomfort just to meet the standards of others. Their judgments couldn’t affect me if I didn’t care.
Now that my perspective and values have been realigned and the fear of future knee-jerks has been quelled, I’ve made the decision to ditch the bra forever. Now, more than 10 years later, I still enjoy the freedom and am no longer self-conscious. I ignore any looks that I may have perceived as judgmental – I just don’t worry about what others think anymore, and that feels so liberating. It may not be for everyone, but I’m so glad I stopped putting others’ comfort above my own. Throwing away my bras was a choice I made for myself. And I would encourage any other woman who is thinking about it to do the same.
