I have always hated my breasts – but now I’ve realized they are actually perfect

I stand in front of the mirror and look at myself naked, and all I can think is, are my breasts really that unattractive?

Let me explain: A recent study conducted by researchers at New York University found that the most attractive breasts, according to both men and women, are perky, have close-set nipples, and are of average size.

In other words, I am a failure in every way. At least, if we are to believe this research.

Honestly, I’m not surprised. I’ve always hated my breasts—almost as much as I’m sure the 1,000 survey respondents would have if they’d been included. My 36 once-C’s, now undoubtedly Double D’s, were never good.

I don’t know my correct bra size, but I’m pretty sure it’s at least two sizes larger than the bras I wear – bras that are so comfortable, so old, so stretched that I can squeeze them and pretend that I’m still a C cup.

And I know I’m not alone in this struggle.

What a complicated relationship we women have with our breasts. Just like curly girls want silky smooth hair, and vice versa, most women want the exact opposite of what they have – especially when it comes to their breasts.

In this case, the very women whose breasts were seen in the study with the “ideal” boob types had actually posed for those photos while having consultations for surgery.

How ironic that even those women who have the “perfect” pair have been convinced at one time or another that they need to go under the knife to improve the appearance of their breasts.

Sure, we all have those friends who adore their breasts. But these women are really an exception. These are the friends who affectionately refer to their breasts as “the girls,” who think nothing of going out with their cleavage in full view, and who love talking to men and watching their eyes constantly drops a few inches below their chin.

“We still have it,” they say delightedly, as I stand to one side, shivering in horror at the thought.

Our relationship with our breasts can change throughout life, the toll of puberty, childbirth and menopause all take their toll.

One of my friends loved her breasts until she had her third child. But after months of breastfeeding, her once full, high breasts had become flabby and small. So she didn’t think twice about going to a plastic surgeon and having a breast lift, complete with implants.

And now she’s in love with her breasts again, which are spectacular again.

How should I know that? Because last year we were in a restaurant, with a group of women, and she told us all about her boob job – while showing the results in full.

“Look!” she said excitedly, pulling up her silk top to reveal her braless perfect breasts. “See how there are no scars? Aren’t they great?’

The men at the bar almost fell off their seats and everyone ooh and aah over her new chest.

“Feel them!” She encouraged us as we gently touched each one. It’s hard to believe we didn’t get kicked out.

This kind of confidence is completely foreign to me; I don’t want any attention to my body at all. If I could wear a tent every day, cover myself from neck to ankle, I’d be perfectly happy.

Since menopause, I’ve found that the caftan is the sartorial answer to my need for tents, without revealing any cleavage or hint of legs. It’s all I wear.

I’ve always hated big breasts. Growing up in the 1970s, I remember watching the British TV show Top of the Pops and longing to be as one of the dancers in the show’s all-female troupe.

Skinny was in, as were small breasts and lurex plunging necklines. I dreamed of being one of those women who had no breasts, who was able to ditch the bras and wear little tops that went down to their navel and showed nothing but tanned, toned skin.

But I wasn’t skinny, and my breasts refused to cooperate. Never perky, at least they were… erect, at least for a while.

After menopause, they are now unrecognizable and uncomfortable. Its weight strains my shoulders and my back. I couldn’t possibly go out without a bra or I’d have to pick them up off the floor (I’m only exaggerating a little).

I would like to have them resized, but my husband would be horrified. He loves my breasts and has no idea why I’m so hard on them.

It is true that we constantly get images of perfect women with supposedly perfect breasts and bodies.

With today’s filters, breasts don’t even have to be perfect to show up online. A quick swipe across the screen and hanging can get perky in an instant using a photo editing app.

A video popped up on my Instagram feed this morning showing celebrities using Photoshop before posting. The video showed the actual shot of the paparazzi and then how the celebs modified them before posting.

It featured the usual suspects — Kim Kardashian, Kylie Jenner, Bella Hadid, and a bunch of women I didn’t know — but they’d all done pretty much the same thing with their photos: smoothing the skin on their faces, slimming their waists, and lifting their breasts on.

It’s obviously fashionable right now to have perfectly perky breasts, but fashions are changing, and in the meantime we need to work on accepting our breasts as exactly how they’re supposed to be, rather than a perky photoshopped image that seems little on the real. to live.

And perhaps we can take some comfort in this new study, which proves that no matter how we feel about our own breasts, they are rarely judged so harshly by others.

In fact, none of those surveyed cared much about size or symmetry — instead, fullness in the area above the nipple was the category that scored the highest.

The five best looking pairs varied drastically from big to small. Instead of being perfect, they were completely normal. And while I’m not sure my own “girls” would have made the top five, looking in the mirror I now realize they might not be so far off the mark.

Remember: beauty is in the eye of the beholder. So if I ask the right person (i.e. my husband), they’re basically damn perfect.