Scary Tits

I continue to be fascinated, in a sort of semi-detached way, by the whole new rule book that i seem to have acquired as my breasts start to feminise.

I’ve played with the issue through a set of transition pics on Facebook – starting with me very male and slowly illustrating the changes that have been taking place over the last few months.

(for those not au fait with Facebook on this topic: breasts are mostly bad and banned wherever they rear their ugly head. This has prompted several run-ins with breast-feeding groups, and surreal arguments about how one and the same breast may be OK when viewed as source of food but when the lighting and composition are “just so” it instantly metamorphoses into evil corruptor of youth).

I have also sniggered quietly to myself during a recent pub encounter with a guy who probably, once, did weights. But no more. As a consequence of which he has moobs that put my very own baby boobs to shame. Although, as also observed elsewhere, there is something to the shape and curve of feminine breasts that is very differnt from those of podgy blokes.

Any, the current inner turmoil is how far to uncover around the house. The girls, beset by all the insecurities and prudery of youth – just don’t. Andrea does.

That is, she is pretty unabashed about wandering the bedroom and upper floors late at night quite uncovered and the boy, apart from occasional wistful moments of half-remembered succour, is mostly unbothered by them.

She covers up mostly, but not consistently, in front of the girls: she has been known to wander downstairs in a state of undress.

However, she herself is also pretty strict on the new puritanism front. Since i am now a girl, i should cover up. Always. Everywhere.

Which is quite a change from my previous male unabashedness about wandering bare-chested around the house.

Hmmmmm. Which leaves me wondering: why?

Is it to spare my own blushes? In which case, when i start to feel embarrassed, i shall (and yes: there are now circumstances in which i would be very unwilling to expose myself).

Is it to spare the blushes of the rest of the household? I can well imagine them nodding in furious agreement at that one – though that merely moves the question one step back: why should everyone else be embarrassed by anatomy which they themselves possess and are perfectly familiar with?

Or is it on behalf of some virtual sisterhood? By allowing others a view of my boobs, i am letting the side down and playing up to any and all passing peeping tom?

Don’t get me wrong: i am not exactly straining at the bit here. I have no great desire to fling off my top and run streaking through the local village.

I am merely observing the outward pressure on me to conform, now, to a standard when, for me, there is not a great deal of inner need to do so.

Is this part of how women police themselves?

jane
xx

2 Responses so far »

  1. 1

    Sabine said,

    You’re forgetting the practical point.

    Tits tend to get in your way when doing things that require bending forward and getting them caught in something is unpleasant, to say the least.

    As shirt – never mind a bra – can keep them in check far enough to be comfortable.

    Imagine walking around without pants as you do whatever you do at home. You have to be pretty careful about your balls to keep them from getting where they shouldn’t. Tits are the same, just larger and differently positioned.

    • 2

      janefae said,

      Oh, sabine…🙂

      Not forgetting at all…and you are chatting to someone who, many years ago, used to cook a sunday morning fry-up for their partner totally naked… yes: there were times the fat spat and i hopped around the kitchen.

      I agree totally about the practical aspects…and it is not as though i am seeking to live my life semi-commando… or arguing for some extreme naturist position. Its just that it feels to me as though there is a little more to this than JUST practical stuff.

      There does seem to be a certain moralising tone about some of the observations…and i am intrigued as to what all that is about and who it is meant to be protecting from what.

      jane
      xx


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