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What My Breasts Taught Me About Single Womanhood
“Like the selfish, entitled men that strategically rationed out any much-needed affection to keep me satisfied enough to continue taking what they wanted from me, I haven’t treated my body with any tenderness unless it promised me something in return that I felt was beneficial.”
I have always loved my small and perky breasts. I truly believed I lucked out when it comes to the size and shape of my two mocha-colored grapefruits, to the point where I made the decision to toss all of my bras and allow the public to behold the glory of my chest that doesn’t need any wired or padded support to stay afloat underneath my blouses. I’ve always hated covering my boobies with fabric, much less wear clothes.
While I do not need any confirmation from men that my breasts are awesome to admire and play with, it does help that most of the men I’ve been with love them almost as much as I do. One day on a slow Sunday afternoon one of my exes was playing with my twins. He couldn’t help but mutter under his breath that they were the best looking breasts in the entire world.
As a single woman I am taking an extended and possibly permanent vacation from any male hands groping my girls, and the pleasure that follows from this type of intimacy. And lately I was forced to reflect on my own relationship to my body, and how I completely…
