Big Tits. Great Tits. Small Tits. Fake Tits.

I remember being 9, playing basketball during recess, when the class clown snapped my bra.

I remember being 10 at summer camp. We only had a communal shower and we were not allowed to wear our bathing suits (...to ensure optimal cleanliness?). I was the only 10 year old with a C-cup, and I could see all of my cabin-mates notice.

I remember being 13 at summer camp. I was going to free-swim and an older boy, 14 or 15, asked me my age. I blushed and when I told him he replied, “you have really big boobs for a girl in grade 8.”

I remember being 16 when the term “titty-fucking” became popular.

I remember being 19 and after 3 hours in the operating room and an easy week of recovery, I went from an E/EE-cup to a C-cup. A month later I even had my scars photographed for Vagina Monologues!

I remember being 21 and at work, when I see a guy I used to “get intimate” with in first year. Later he asks, with his buddy in toe, “how big were your boobs before the reduction again?”


*Published in Queen's Feminist Review 2010