No Bra? No Problem

I have pretty great boobs. The right one is a little bigger than the left one, and they peak slightly outwards towards my elbows, but other than that, they're pretty great.

Let's be real — everyone* with boobs has great boobs.

*I say "everyone" because not everyone who has boobs is a woman!

They're not very large, and they're not very small. I have the opportunity to go bra-less without it causing me discomfort.

As a teenager, I thought I was a size 34B. Chances are, you thought you were too—apparently, a 34B is one of the most popular bra sizes in North America, with undergarment shops having reported always selling out of 34Bs first. Now, I doubt that this is due to us breast-having folk all sharing the same-sized boobs. Rather, I'm guessing this is a mistake we make when measuring ourselves at home: standing shirtless in front of our bathroom mirrors, groaning, trying to wrap our mom's sewing measuring tape from the 1950s around our chest, wondering why we even wear bras in the first place...

Why do we wear bras, in the first place?

This got me thinking: bras are expensive; bras are uncomfortable. We all know the incredible satisfaction that we get from coming home at the end of a long day, sticking our arm up the back of our shirt, unhooking the clasp and whipping our bra across the room in the general direction of our laundry basket (or, if you're me, at the end of the couch by your feet).

Bras have always bothered me. I remember being a chubby pre-teen, and having to wear a "training bra" long before any of my friends started to develop (the only thing I was training for was a lifetime of squished-boob misery). When I was old enough to wear my first real bra but too embarrassed to talk about it, I was taken to The Bay by my mom, where she ambushed me with puberty talk. I ended up checking out of the store with a brand new pale beige un-wired bra (sexy), and an earful about my "body making some changes."

Fast forward to being an even more insecure teenager with some disposable income. You better bet your bottom dollar that I was getting a ride to the mall with my friends to secretly buy polka dot G-strings and $40 push-ups bras. How else were boys going to notice me? By presenting a compassionate personality and a good sense of humor? Unlikely!

Over the years, I have collected many bras. I look at my closet now, with a dangling graveyard of overly-padded push-ups, and strapless bras with their underwire poking out (getting stabbed gently for hours in the under-boob is almost as painful as period cramps).

I can't believe it took me this long to stop wearing a bra.

I was first inspired by a new friend. When we met for the first time after she decided to go bra-less, I'll be honest, I was alarmed. I was caught off guard when she took off her jacket and I could see the shape of her natural chest pretty clearly outlined through her shirt. It felt like I was seeing something I shouldn't—like I wasn't respecting her privacy somehow. Regardless, she rocked the look and made no indication of feeling shy or embarrassed about her new appearance.

I have always admired this about my friend: she takes no sh*t but does no harm. She's genuinely cool and lives her most authentic life.

In a long-standing effort to do the same, to be genuine to myself and start to live in a more comfortable and self-accepting way, I decided to stop wearing a bra (in addition to other important things, like speaking my mind, appreciating my skills, taking care of my mental health... but RN I'm talkin' boobs, okay?!).

I went cold turkey. I didn't start with bralettes or sports bras; I let the girls hang loose ASAP.

And oh my goodness, it made me feel so

...

bashful and cold!

I'll be honest—the first few weeks made me feel incredibly awkward. I became abnormally self-aware: Can the waiter see my nipples? Will my boob pop out of my shirt if I bend over to pick this up? Do they move in a weird way when I'm jogging up the stairs in school?

I did not immediately feel liberated and sexy and confident.

It took a while before I stopped caring if my nipples were making an appearance.

I gradually came to the conclusion that going bra-less was infinitely more comfortable for me, and that I appreciated my appearance even if I didn't have a plump, structured-looking chest.

I began to feel more comfortable with my natural chest and gained confidence in them as unique parts of my body.

I spent significantly less money by not buying bras.

I spent significantly less time getting ready by not having to find the right bra that matched my outfit, or could have its straps hidden, or lifted my boobs enough to give me the desired amount of cleavage.

Also, not having to wash bras is a luxury: no more laundry bags, gentle cycles, or hang-drying.

I did some research, and it turns out that not wearing a bra might actually improve your health.

According to a 15-year long study conducted in France by a male researcher named Jean-Denis Rouillon, going bra-less is beneficial. He claims it can actually allow your chest to develop more muscle tissue, which allows your body to better support your boobs, therefore preventing sagging.

Is this study true? Who knows. There have been female academics that are skeptical of his findings. Use your own personal discretion when considering the potential health benefits of this!

Regardless, I love going bra-less.

To reiterate, not everyone will feel comfortable going bra-less; I know women that love the support and structure that their bras give them, regardless of their cup size. Some folks have no problem spending the time and the money it takes to have fun, functional, and comfortable bras.

Leaving the bra behind was something that I decided to do for myself as a way of embracing my body and developing a stronger sense of self-acceptance. Going against the norm and not wearing a bra was something that took courage for me. I think everyone goes through some sort of personal journey of self-love, and this was just one step in mine.

Thanks for listening.