The age of censorship is finally being destroyed by women across the United States supporting one cause: the Free the Nipple campaign.
Since this movement was introduced by Lina Esco in the drama/comedy, "Free the Nipple," dialogues about gender equality continue to spread nationwide. Now, any woman who decides to set her breasts free is viewed as a radical feminist seeking equal rights.
Well, Lina Esco and supporters, my nipples are not a political statement. I did not wake up one moment and decided, "For 2 years I will not wear a bra because it is trendy and I want to belong to a movement." It is actually simple - I freed my nipple! I freed my breasts!
Throughout my youth, I succumbed to the societal norm of wearing a bra. "Ant bites," my fifth-grade pubescent friends would tease. And I, with worry of not fitting in with the popular crowd I worked so hard to be apart of, ran to my mother in hopes of easing the peer pressure inflicted by mockery. While this marks my first bra, it also introduces the start of my brassiere journey.
As my breasts grew from ant bites to mosquito bites late in middle school, I discovered my ticket to womanhood: a striped pink and blue matching bra and pantie set from Target that I could not wait to show off on my Myspace page. Staring in the mirror as I click the camera button, I affirm that the painfully annoying underwire and circulation-cutting straps are worth my entrance into womanhood.
As I enter my first year of college, the age of Victoria's Secret's "Very Sexy" push-up bra became my staple of accentuating my new found sexual liberation and growing C-cup breasts. As I moved through college, I found every reason to purchase a new bra every semi-annual sale until my breasts could not take the constriction and sweat. It was a constant reminder that I am only wearing a bra to make myself "look better" - and I became less interested in pushing up my breasts, and more interested in finding that one comfortable bra. I became more interested in freeing my breasts. Then, my junior year of college ended my brassiere journey.
Entering a four-year college introduced me to being comfortable with exposing and exploiting myself. I became unapologetic about my values and my body. In hand, this led to my blunt form of self-expression. I TOOK MY BRA OFF. For good. As I dawn the campus with busty, hard, and poking nipples, I receive looks of wonder, looks of temptation, looks of disbelief - all kind of looks. I admit, this made me slightly uncomfortable and it urged me to run back to masking my nipples behind heavy padding; however, I realized most people should be aware what is beneath the grasp of a bra. So why hide it?
2 years later, I am still bra-less and gaining the knowledge of the shape of my breasts, an appreciation for a quirky unevenness, and a love for them as accessories to a great crop top.
Women are supposed to get dressed and include undergarments, especially the piece of clothing where you have to double down just to clip on the third row. For the first half of my life, my understanding of the decision to put on uncomfortable bras was because I wanted the passage to womanhood. I did not think of my decision as a way of stripping the taboo of the female nipple. I burned my bra for convenience and comfort. So, welcome to my: "Free the Nipples for Comfort" movement.