Dear Men,
For as long as I can remember, I've always had big breasts. They developed early and increased in size all the way up to an F cup in my adult life. They've always been sort of a running joke in my close-knit group of friends — jokes I absolutely participate in. I am aware of their size. This is nothing new to me.
I'm pretty comfortable with myself and my sexuality, so when people I know joke about how big they are, it doesn't phase me.
I've totally rocked cleavage-baring shirts and bathing suits, and I've done it with pride. It makes me feel sexy — because without a doubt boobs are sexy. Just as any body part can be sexy. I absolutely see the attraction to them and even believe sexualizing them is appropriate in the correct consenting settings.
Yes, that's right. I sexually enjoy my own breasts and love it when my partner enjoys them. Yes fellas, ladies enjoy them too — is your mind blown yet?
But just like any other body part, their sexual appeal isn't their primary purpose. There is a time and a place breasts (and butts and abs and eyes) are sexy.
When my son is napping on them isn't one of them.
Ever since my son was born, he has loved to snuggle on my chest. He is only 3 months old so I can't know for sure, but I suspect it has to do with him hearing my heartbeat and my breasts being comfy. For awhile when he was first earthside, the only way to get him to fall asleep was prop him upright and let him snuggle in. Perfectly normal baby behavior.
However, should he do it in public, people (and in particular, men like you) like to take it as an opportunity to openly discuss and sexualize the entire situation.
"I bet that's his favorite spot," men have said to me with a lascivious wink.
"What a lucky little dude."
"Man he has the life. Sure wish I could rest there."
I wish I was kidding. Even one of our doctors made an off-color comment when my son snuggled up to me. He turned to my husband and said:
"Man that used to be your spot, but looks like you got the boot!"
Um, EXCUSE ME?
Mind you, this isn't even me breastfeeding my son in public -- this is simply us being out and about, doing normal family stuff.
Before you start rolling your eyes and calling me a snowflake, take this into consideration:
If my son wasn't sleeping on my chest, wouldn't it be considered grotesque to just comment on my breasts in public? Of course it would — and using my sleeping infant as a sly way to talk about my body is especially heinous.
The worst part, though, is the weird sexual implication in relation to my son.
Implying he is a "lucky man" because he gets to sleep on my chest kind of implies he is getting some sort of pleasure other than comfort out of it. There is nothing sexual or pleasurable about it.
Breasts, although they can be sexual in a consenting context, have a primary function of comforting and feeding children.
By implying my son is just "lucky" to rest on my boobs does several misogynistic things at once. For one, it places a weird toxic assumption on my kid. We talk all the time about kids being forced to grow up too fast and in the same breath say things like "He'll be such a ladies' man." My boobs aren't sexual to him; they are part of mommy's body.
It also objectifies the sh*t out of me. I'm not a pair of disembodied breasts. Because they are big doesn't mean you have an invitation to comment on them. And using my son as a way to weasel in a comment probably earns you a special place in hell.
Just because someone sees my breasts as pleasurable doesn't give them the right to make me (or any other woman) uncomfortable. And it certainly isn't ok to make it weird for me and my son.
