Growing up I always wanted perky curvy boobs. I remember as a kid trying on bras when my breasts hadn’t even developed yet. However, when they did develop they did not look like how I had expected. They didn’t look as “cute” and were smaller and more awkward than I had envisioned. I thought I’d give it another year, but after sophomore year of high school and visiting a surgeon, I was informed my boobs had a formal name and considered a form of deformity. My small awkward boobs turned out to be underdeveloped and I had a condition called tubular hypoplastic breasts. There are different levels of “severity” for this condition and every woman’s breasts vary.

Typically women with tubular breasts have “enlarged, puffy areola; unusually wide spacing between the breasts; minimal breast tissue; sagging; higher than normal breast fold; and narrow base at the chest wall.” Each boob may be of different sizes and viewed as narrow and lopsided.

Having tubular breasts also means not having enough breast tissue or alveoli, other known as the “milk producing cells.” This means trouble breastfeeding in the future. If any breast tissue does develop, it usually goes in the nipple, enlarging it and gaining itself the nickname “puffies” in porn.

My boobs were a source of insecurity I kept quiet about. I eventually expressed my discomfort to my parents and my want for corrective surgery. I had consultations thereafter and we concluded we would do the surgery once I reached a stable weight because my boobs were getting smaller as I lost weight.

Fast forward to my sophomore year in college and despite being better educated about how Eurocentric beauty standard had been socialized in me to believe something was unsexy or wrong with my boobs, I still really wanted the surgery. So I booked the date and was ready to go. Here I was, about to have the surgery I’ve wanted since freshman year of high school, then two weeks before the procedure, I cancel. Why?

1. I didn’t want to give into limiting beauty standards

I took a step back to think about what effect my boobs had on my life and why I felt so negatively towards them. I asked myself, why did I feel such a strong need to have surgery to “correct” my boobs? What was “wrong” about them? Why had I let it dictate my personal life to the point I would reject guys in order to avoid the anxiety of taking my top off? Why was I trying to change myself for approval? Whose approval?

After answering my questions, I realized I could not succumb to sexist beauty standards. I was more aware than ever of the patriarchal world I lived in, where a women’s appearance was supposed to be her pride and glory, valued than her accomplishments and personality.

I did not want to conform to a world that profits off toxic beauty standards that we force onto ourselves. Feminine beauty is so narrowly defined and I could not box myself into these limiting and superficial “norms.” I couldn’t allow myself to feel bound to them anymore. I felt empowered allowing myself to learn to love my body. I felt empowered redefining what beauty meant to me.

There was no need to punish myself for being myself. There is nothing “wrong” with my boobs and they should not be ridiculed or thought of as less than. There is no reason I should feel anxious to take my top off. Boobs come in all shapes and sizes and they are not made to be sexual organs anyway. Biologically, they're for breastfeeding. Everything else we think about boobs has been socialized in us, where boobs have become sexualized and limiting sexist standards have been placed on women.

I respect women who have had reconstructive surgery to feel more comfortable in their skin and body but I personally made the decision to hold off.

2. Surgery has risks and I wasn’t ready to go under the knife again

I was not ready to recover from surgery or place myself in a position of risk. Every surgery is associated with risk, and having gone under the knife before for a previous procedure, I was too nervous to put myself through it again.

Undergoing surgery also meant I would lose feeling in my nipples. Thinking about losing feeling in my body in order to succumb to a standard I had internalized about what an ”appropriate” nipple size should be didn’t sit right with me. I was sacrificing my own feeling and pleasure by objectifying my boobs for male approval. It no longer felt right to cut up my boobs.

I was also nervous about the end result of the surgery because not all surgeons understand TBD breast construction, and it takes tissue construction, appropriate lifting and rounding to even out the shape. Additionally, it may not have been corrected in one session and require two surgeries to get the desired result. It seemed like too much money, time and energy to put my body through the process of reconstructive surgery.

There was also a risk I would not be able to breastfeed in the future if I went through with the surgery. Although I am not certain if I want to have children, I was not ready to shut down the possibility that if I did have kids, I would not be able to breastfeed them.

The surgery was also very pricey. Although my family was willing to help me have the surgery in order to feel more comfortable in my own skin, thinking about the productive experiences I could allocate the money to seemed more appropriate.

I admire women who dedicate the mental and physical time to recover from reconstructive surgery and live their lives without the stigma of TBD. However, I decided to learn to live with my breasts, while learning to love them and free myself from the fear of being viewed as unattractive

3. It was time to love my boobs & redefine sexy

I didn't want to cut up my boobs before giving myself the opportunity to love them. By embracing my boobs in their natural form, I could redefine what sexy and true confidence meant to me.

I had never imagined myself going braless with my tubular breasts, but when I did I felt empowered. By loving my boobs, I wasn’t only freeing myself from toxic self-hate, but I was standing against toxic beauty standards on women, capitalism and the patriarchal society that has told me and millions of women what it means to look “appropriate.” I wasn’t living outside the box of Eurocentric beauty standards by not “correcting” my boobs, but I was re-defining what that meant. However, saying this, I am also not opposed to surgery and understand the internalization of Eurocentric beauty standards and how people find peace with their bodies by having surgery. It is a personal decision and I admire whatever decision a woman makes for herself, whether that means with or without surgery.

Nonetheless, I am proud to live during a time where women are reclaiming their bodies, and allowing them to be sexy in their natural form and wholly accepting who they are with shameless love. I am also proud to live beside women who have made the decision to undergo surgery to live happier without the stigma of TBD. I am simply proud to be beside women who are aware of their bodies and making decisions for their own happiness consciously. Together we are learning to love our boobs, our bodies, our cellulite and all things in between.