Last week, I looked down and realized I needed something I haven’t needed for a very long time.
Okay, so maybe my new bras don’t quite resemble the picture at the right. But I always believed that the phrase —”comfortable bra” — is an oxymoron and that the bra was invented solely to keep women out of the real world and into the kitchen and bedroom. I mean, if we are busy trying to keep underwire from digging into our ribcage, how much threat can we be to the status quo?
I didn’t need a bra when I was in the worst throes of anorexia. Now, I do know some women who were very small, but still kept wearing bras…but I was not one of them. I figured that if I didn’t notice much in that area, no one else did, either, and I was home-free.
So, being skeptical about anorexia recovery, I stocked up on camisoles and decided that having very small breasts were a positive thing. I didn’t need a bra; I was beyond that. I could explore the idea that I was enmeshed in anorexia solely because I was afraid of being a woman…but I won’t go there for now.
Anyway, I didn’t give curves and breasts more than two seconds thought when I started working on recovery yet again. This is because I firmly believe that food and weight are just symptoms of eating disorders, and thus I ignored the less cerebral aspects of recovery.
I didn’t think about breasts, because I didn’t think I was going to get them. Hmm…
Discovering My Curves
I was surprised and a little bit dismayed when I looked at my recovering body and saw curves everywhere. Hips. Thighs. Stomach. And…breasts.
First I had to shop for new jeans and underwear, because let’s just say I weigh significantly more than I did two years ago.
Then I looked down and realized I needed a bra.
This wasn’t as easy as going to my local Kohl’s and plopping down several hundred dollars for a few bras, a type of lingerie that cover less and yet costs more than the clothing over it. First, I had to measure…then I realized my calculations were all off. I was too embarrassed to walk into any store and say, “Excuse me, I’m 46-years-old, but I’m clueless about what bra size I should be wearing.”
Breasts are not the only curves I’m noticing on my new, rapidly recovering body. I noticed hips and a waist; a curvier body that had to be accommodated and yet relied upon.
I also noticed my stomach, newly round, and remembered my active anorexic days and my oh-so-flat stomach. Or so I thought. What I didn’t see was the drawn, narrow face and too-thin body of a woman dying of anorexia.
Embracing My Curves
Last week, I asked my eating disorders psychiatrist if there was any way we could get rid of “the girls,” (what I euphemistically call my breasts.)
He suggested that I should “embrace” my femininity, instead of being dismayed and aggravated by my new curves. I’m thinking, “Yes, that’s a wonderful concept in theory! But you don’t have to wear a bra each and every day!!!” Then I glanced at his tie and figured I should shut up about gender-based torture devices.
I have discovered some good things about having curves and returning to wearing bras. I fill out my jeans much better than I did two years ago. And bras come in lovely shades such as purple and pink.
So I headed to Kohl’s and tried on some various bras, soon learning two things: a. the lack of uniformity in women’s apparel is long entrenched in this society, and b. the cost of many bras could feed a small nation.
I was surprised and a little disconcerted when I first really looked at my new body. I didn’t like all these curves, albeit small ones, on my body. I was no longer used to seeing curves in relation to me; I felt like I was in an alien body.
It also feels like going through puberty for a second go-round. Well, I’ve been to this rodeo before…
My feelings have softened with time, and I often feel feminine in a way that I didn’t when enmeshed in my eating disorder.
Now if I could only find the perfect bra…
I confess I removed my bra before writing this post.