I have big boobs. No really. They are easily porn-star sized, and I mean hentai-porn sized. If I lost all sense of modesty and decency, among other things, I could make a decent living as a porn star. And no, they’re not plastic. Yuck.
And I’ve always been rather self-conscious about them. I mean…I was maybe 10 when I started getting them, and by the time I was in middle school I had the boobs that supposedly everyone envied. Maybe the girls did, but they were nasty about it. Boys and girls alike called me a “slut” constantly. Big boobs=slut. I was also accused of having had them done in an operation.
Yes, really. I was 12 at the time.
So, out of shame and being bullied, I covered myself up. I wore huge jumper-dresses that made me look like a Fundie and took away all of my beautiful curves.
Then, I got to high-school, and said, “FUCK IT” and suddenly I was wearing tight jeans, and my cups ranneth quite over, and I was overly-proud of my boobs in that “I’m so not ashamed of my boobs and if I keep saying that I’ll eventually believe it!” way that a lot of insecure, bullied kids tend to behave.
I still wished I could give them away, or have them reduced (honestly, they cause back-pain) and at times I’m still frustrated by them.
I know, some of you flat-chested to mid-chested girls are sitting here reading this, saying…”boo-hoo” but you know what? YOU try going to the store and buying a Double D bra that doesn’t look like it was made for Mom. Think you’ll find something at Victoria Secret? Think again- you’ll be lucky to find it in anything other than black, white, or tan, and it will always be assumed that you’re already a mother. Plus, you get to pay $10-$20 extra just to cart those puppies around.Not to mention, finding a bra that will actually ensure that your boobs don’t fly around and annihilate the planet is *quite* tricky.
Not that I’m sharing these with Mr. Serrano, but dang…being stuck in the “matronly” category when you’re not a mother is…embarassing.
That is the thought that came to me the other day, as I stood wistfully eyeing a pink and white polka-dotted bra that only went to size faux C. (That’s what I call it when they’re trying to make A’s look like C’s…) All I could think was…
I’m stuck in mommy boobs territory. Moms aren’t sexy. Sexy= beautiful. Moms aren’t sexy, and neither am I.
And then I thought…wait what the frikking mo-fo? How are moms not sexy? How am I not sexy.
So, later on, I ran into this post over at Single Dad Laughing. I have to agree with him- men (and women) have got to stop with the striving for sick ideals that in reality are not idyllic.
What I find most interesting, however, is that even though this guy, who seems pretty well on the liberal side of things if I’m allowed to make some assumptions, (for example, he actually comes out and says he’s hetero…a more traditional minded person would just say “man” and leave the assumptions about sexuality alone…)…
Well, he comes out and says for one thing, MEN need to step up and stop oggling women. Also, I may have detected a slight, “Quit looking at porn” bias. It may be a little fetus of a bias now, but I hope its one that he develops and gives birth to. Seriously, real men shouldn’t be looking at porn. He also mentions that we basically have porn that surrounds us through advertising.
THANK YOU. Seriously, has anybody taken a stroll through Abercrombie and Fitch, or Hollister? Back in the 60’s that was basically what counted for as dirty magazine porn. (I would know. I once found porno mags from the 60’s. They belonged to a family member that I rather wish I didn’t know that intimate fact about him…)
But the thing that caught my attention, because it was directed to women, is that we should…maybe…cover ourselves up.
OMG a REAL MAN. The Feminazis are probably burning with hatred for him. Good. That means he’s doing something right.
Guys are visual. I’ve noticed it. Mr. Serrano has a *very* hard time trying not to pay attention the waitress who bends over, gives him a nice view of her cleavage, speaks breathy, and constantly places her hands on her chest, as if it weren’t already freaking obvious that she’s being a whore.
To Mr. Serrano’s credit, he was made more uncomfortable than turned on by her behavior. I know certain other males who would have been salivating, and not because of the steak that was to be ordered. Me? I just let the “F” bomb drop. Fiance. That got her to turn around back to me, and then to back the heck off…
Anyway, obvious jealousy aside, we women DO have to actually step up and help out. Although I’m not giving up my tight-fittin jeans (they’re entirely too comfortable) I have had a couple of times where Luis has suggested that I should cover up my girls, so to speak.
Yeah, I know, that’s supposed to be abusive, blah blah blah. Stuff it. No, not your bra.
Although now I honestly am ambivalent (although frustrated if I shop for bras) about my boobs, I’ve just fallen into the habit of wearing some of the most revealing outfits. Mr. Serrano, luckily, one day sat me down and told me what’s running through the minds of some men when they see the bouncing flesh jellies of joy everywhere…
and I have to agree again with SDL- I can’t negate my participation in sin.
So how does my boobs tie into Twilight, Chastity, and Mormonism?
Chastity is so much more than not bonking every vagina (or penis) with legs in existence. Neither is it freaking out over the use of terms like “penis” or “vagina” used in a tone that is not overtly sexual or demeaning. At Life Site News, my favorite news site ever, an author tackles the readership who believe that Twilight, the popular, vomit-inducing for-all-intents-and-purposes-is-internet-fanfiction “novel” series portrays a message that is 1) Pro-Life and 2) Pro-Chastity.
While I like the idea of waiting for sex until marriage, and while I will jump at anything pro-life, I have to agree with LSN. Just because there is no sex before marriage does not mean there is chastity, and just because a baby is born to a teen mom instead of plain aborted right out of existence does not a pro-life, pro-chastity tale make.
What all does this have to do with Mormonism, then?
I’ve linked to this before, both because it is hilarious and very true. Stephanie Myers is a Mormon, and just like with any writer, her political and religious beliefs influence her writing, even more so because her writing, academically speaking, is highly immature.
I’m not trying to sound all high-and-mighty, but its a fact. If I’d turned this sort of crap in to my profs, no matter how much money I made from it they’d still be banging their heads into the wall, wondering why they wasted their time trying to teach me. (They’ll probably do that if they see this blog, too, but at least I’m not pretending to be a super-professional writer…).
When people tell me that I should be able to find some common ground with Mormons in that they are pro-chastity and pro-life, I find that instead of feeling solidarity, I feel queasiness. After a lot of soul, searching, and stumbling upon these seemingly unrelated posts, I had an epiphany of why.
When it comes to Catholicism (and Christianity in general) versus Mormonism, there *still* isn’t really agreement on these things. There is no universal Mormon declaration against abortion, just a weak, flabby, and inadequate comment about God and love. Very typical…just in case God changes his mind I guess. When it comes to chastity, especially as I prepare for marriage, the difference of belief on this one issue opens up a gulf for me.
Mormons seem to view marriage as a means for sex. I see this in their history and their theology. Joseph Smith supposedly didn’t fornicate, until he married his wives and then had lawful-according-to-him sex. Sure, Mormons still believe that babies are supposed to come from sex (this is good!) but its as if sex is the goal of marriage, rather than a tool of marriage. Its as if marriage sort of legitimizes sex. Its a formality to go through to get to the “good stuff”, and its as if sex is sometimes confused with marriage. Socially speaking, I’ve noticed that Mormons tend to get really focused on sex to a point where its unhealthy. Jack and Jill hold hands- does that mean they’re having sex? Does that mean they want to get married?
Heck, even the sick classes where girls are
indoctrinated taught to not date a guy unless they’d marry him are laced, albeit subconsciously, with sex. Its a topic so avoided its unavoidable.
In Mormonism, you don’t get to the good side of Heaven without a mate, and without good Mormon priesthood kids. You MUST get married, you MUST attempt conception. You MUST have sex.
Honestly speaking, this idea is so revoltingly modern that I can’t help but feel queasy thinking about it.
Catholicism, on the other hand, views sex as something beautiful, spiritual, and life-giving, but not essential to being a human. Porking someone does not make you into a man or a woman, even if you are married when you commence porking, even if you’re a virgin porker or porkee. Its a gift from God, and should be treated as such. Its also a gift not given to everyone, in the sense that all must get married, have sex, and pop out kids. Not everyone is called to that vocation, just like not everyone is called to be a Priest, a Sister, a Brother, a Monk, or a Nun.
When I compare Catholicism with Mormonism, even in the spheres of chastity and pro-life issues, I feel queasy. This is because at their surface, they look alike. At the surface, we can agree.
But if we look underneath the veneer, the shine, and the bliss, we find that the ways that these two very different religions came to their conclusions are entirely unrelated.
We find that while the end conclusions are somewhat similar, the means to get to those conclusions are not only divergent, but incompatible.
In Mormon theology, the ends justify the means.
In Catholic theology, the ends never justify the means.
Dressing well and covering my boobs is a chaste thing to do, and I’m glad that Mormons are all for that, secret sacred magic garmies aside. Unfortunately, I think society has a long way to go. Mormonism, especially, has a long way to go in defining chastity. It seems that they, like many young religions, have gotten themselves in a pickle by falling in love with the image but not the substance of chastity.
So rather than be self conscious about my boobs, and hide them under billowing prairie style dresses, and rather than be overly conspicuous, I’m going to try to learn to practice the Christian art of Chastity by covering up a little more, and giving men a break.
Thank you, Mr. Serrano, for giving me insights into the mental life of a man. Thank you SDL for giving me a challenge. And thank you, Stephanie Myers, for giving rise to the number of blogs that make fun of your…”writing”… God always works some good out of stuff like this.
Hmmm I think I need to go read some fanfiction….