For out 2014 Women’s Wellness Week, journalist, Martel Maxwell, explains why her boobs are her favourite body part and why!
It’s not very British to say we love bits of our bodies. Tell a group of pals: “God, I hate my thighs” and you are greeted with a chorus of “Oh me too”’s or a conciliatory “Nooo, you’ve got great legs.”
But announce to your girlfriends you’re having a love-in with your stomach and it takes them aback. How very American.
So when Bonnie from Spabreaks.com asked what part of my body I love, I decided to be bold. After all, if you can’t love yourself…
So, I’m a breast girl. That’s right. I love my breasts. As a developing teen, it was all about making them bigger. I remember the bra – a padded, purple Wonderbra, the occasion of mum taking me to be measured in a department store and seeing my figure transformed.
Fast-forward a few years to one drunken night at university, things took a welcome turn for my ego. In a flat somewhere in Edinburgh, a small group of us decided to carry the night on in one of our number’s flat – topless. Suddenly, everyone was pointing, asking if I’d had a boob job – apparently, they were too round and pert to be real.
Like getting a glowing report card as a child, my confidence shone.
My legs were too short to ever look good in jeans, my thighs would always wobble and my stomach could be flatter (though now, as I write pregnant for the second time in a year, I realise what excess weight actually means having put on four – yes four stone first time round) but my breasts I loved.
In the past year, they have taken on a whole new level of pride within my psyche. They may have lost their circular frame; my nipples no longer point North – but all for noble cause: breastfeeding.
For the first six months of my son’s life, breast milk was all he needed to survive. How cool is that? To be able to sustain your child from your own body. To provide the nutrients, antibodies and nourishment that sees them grow until little bangles of fat appear on their ankles and wrists. It blew my mind and I feel blessed that in a few months, I get to do it all over again.
I thought I was proud of my breasts because they got a few compliments. Now, I adore them for what they are able to do.
If only I could feel the same way about my thighs.
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