Breasts: they need our support

Another journalisticky piece. It’s the first time I’ve put my thoughts down about this topic.


By Youlendree Appasamy

These things attached to my body. That’s what I thought my breasts were. What I was indoctrinated to believe is that breasts are centres of femininity, of pleasure, of womanliness. That my breasts signified a key part of my identity as lady. I scorned this identity thrust upon me by virtue of a random part of my body. The lump in my breast was merely a physiological defect. I did feel defective for a long time. The first time I felt an anomaly in my right breast was when I was 16. That is the first time I felt it. I did not know how long it had been sitting there, growing in size. My mother never took me seriously: she thought that the processes of puberty were rendering my body strange and that I was overreacting to these strange changes.

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