The beginning of 2015 was not a great time for me. I was suffering a bit from an identity crisis and it felt like every aspect of my life was changing and slipping from my fingers. I made a handful of bad decisions and pushed away my friends when they tried to help. In my mind, I was a disease and if I let anyone come too close I’d pull them into my dark world. It turned out, keeping people out was a really crappy thing to do.
That all being said, there are moments in that space of time where I felt more alive than I’ve ever felt before. My world was going to hell and I felt like I had no control over any of it. Still, I’d have those moments where I’d be walking to work and it felt like nothing could ruin my mood. It was as if I was in a bubble that shielded me from my doom for a few blissful seconds and even though I knew the bubble would pop, I was still feeling good.
There were a few things I did to help me feel like I had control in my life. The first was that I was finally working my first job and I really put a lot of energy into that. I also started writing poetry, but it was poetry only for my eyes to see. The one thing I did that really felt like a wild card was that I completely stopped wearing bras.
I look back to when I first stopped putting a bra on and I try to remember what started it, why I had decided to do it. I honestly can’t remember a damn thing. I’m not super busty by any means, but I’m not small enough to get away braless unnoticed. I also wore whatever shirt I wanted to wear, even if it was tight, loose, thin, or silky. I didn’t wear any see-through stuff though, so no worries there! If it was cold and I got a bit “nipply” I didn’t give two hoots (pun intended).
I wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed. I wasn’t out to get attention from guys, though I did get a little. I was emotionally unstable and the only time I felt good was when I remembered I wasn’t wearing a bra. I felt like a powerful woman. I don’t think I could explain it even if I understood it myself. I felt unstoppable, even though my life was in shambles and I had no clue who I was anymore.
Thankfully I didn’t get any rude comments or gestures or unwanted/inappropriate attention. Maybe I lucked out or maybe I wasn’t paying attention. I finally started wearing bras again when my step-mom asked me about it. I realized that, while I felt super awesome and empowered, I probably didn’t look professional. I mean, I didn’t even wear a bra to work, but nobody ever commented on it.
I had forgotten about my two-month hiatus on bras until my sister brought it up yesterday. I didn’t realize how big of a deal it was to go braless until my sister said (paraphrasing here), “I wish I was that confident. I thought it was really cool.” Was it about confidence? If there was a time in my life where I felt the least confident in myself, it was then. So why did I do it?
Not wearing a bra for a day or two is much different than going braless for months. It isn’t necessarily that it becomes a part of your identity, but it becomes something similar to a daily mantra. Choosing not to wear a bra gave me a weird sense of control. It also gave me a sense of pride for my breasts, which I had never been too confident of. I wasn’t looking for attention, I wasn’t trying to rebel. I wasn’t trying to be feminist and sticking it to the man. I did it for me. When I think about it, it is one of the only things I have ever done that was completely 100% for me and nobody else. Nobody suggested it or talked about it. I didn’t get the idea off Pinterest or Buzzfeed. I didn’t even plan it, I just did it.
Other than the sense of control and power it gave me, I think something else was happening too. I can remember, after a really bad day, I was feeling really low. I’m totally one of those people who cries in the bathroom and looks at myself in the mirror. Call me a masochist or vain, I don’t really care, it’s just something I’ve done since I was little. I was in the girl’s bathroom on my floor and I looked up from the sink. I had been crying, my eyes were swollen and red, my face splotchy. My hair was a wreck. I had been having really dark thoughts all day and they were getting to me. When I looked up I felt this wild protectiveness come over my body. I felt beautiful in that moment. I was an absolute wreck, inside and out, and there I was, a freshman in college, messing up my life but working through it and I loved myself. I felt strong. I had never been so proud of my body in my entire life, my unwavering vessel. It was a feeling I will never forget for as long as I live.
Going braless helped me reconnect to my body. It made me feel connected physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I gained a sense of control in my life and a sense of feminine pride for my body and my soul. It sounds really corny, but it is my truth, this is my story. I don’t know where I would be now if I hadn’t gone braless. It’s a weird thought. Maybe I’d still be here, where I am now. I would have gotten through that time anyway, but I don’t think I would be the same person I am now. I have a love for my body that has nothing to do with beauty or appearance. It’s a love that can’t be defined or altered by societal expectations. It’s a love that I feel many people never get to feel in their lifetimes. Now, I’m not saying ya’ll should throw your bras in the air like a graduation cap because our “bras” aren’t all bras. Whatever it is you come across in your life that gets you through your darkest hours, know that in the end it is you that gets you through your muddy waters. You are always so much more powerful than you realize. You should be damn proud of that, I know I am.