'More a curse than a blessing.' I'm sick of having to cover my big boobs to be taken seriously.

My whole adult life, I have been undermined by my cleavage.

You see, having big boobs, in my experience, is more of a curse than a blessing. It's less about feeling sexy and more about trying to find a shirt that buttons up and wishing men would stop leering at me. 

I've spent my whole life having to discuss my boobs. 

Watch: How to improve your daughter's body image. Post continues after video. 

Sure, some creepy men make comments, but women also like to comment. From "I wish I had your boobs!" to, "Wow, does your back hurt?"

Commenting on my chest is considered a form of small talk. Ultimately, I've learned to accept that I have an eye-catching physical attribute, and therefore people are going to comment, like people having red hair, but sometimes it really does suck. 

See, that's the thing about big boobs; it is constantly up to me to police my own body.

The reality is that having big boobs means people gawk at you or underestimate you or sexualise you. I've spent my whole life trying to feel more interesting than my own chest, which isn't good.

For some reason, people do like to comment on other people's physical attributes, and I have experienced the whole gamut of commentary. 

From matching with men on dating apps and the first thing they've said is, "I love your big boobs", to feeling men stare at my chest when they are meant to be listening to what I'm saying. A manager once told me that if I wanted to be taken seriously, I needed to "cover my boobs up." I long ago learnt that my breasts certainly evoke a response, and it's rarely one I want. 

See, that's the thing about being bigger busted; everyone else projects how they feel about big boobs on you, and there's nothing I can do about it.

I've always been hyper-aware of my chest. I grew up with my mother constantly telling me to cover my boobs up. She'd instruct me to throw on a bra from my early teen years if any male came to the house, even if he was a relative. 

Mum was constantly telling me to dress more modestly. Meanwhile, I just wanted to embrace the crop top braless trend that my less busty friends were wearing as a uniform.

In retrospect, I don't know if that was wrong or right, but I understand why she did it. She wanted to protect me from the over-sexualisation society thrusts on bigger chested women. She didn't want me to have to cope with comments or stares, and this was her way of trying to keep me safe. 

Her own experiences shaped how she raised me, and she associated showing off skin with getting unwanted attention. Is it right or fair? No. But she made her parenting decisions based on some pretty grim realities. 

When I was in my late teens and early 20s, I was pretty obsessed with showing off my boobs. I suppose I was exploring my sexuality, enjoying having an adult body, and I loved some of the attention that came with it. 

I was also discovering feminism, and I wanted to rebel against any modesty my mother had tried to instil in me. I wanted to be braless and powerful; I didn't want to feel like I had to hide my body, and I was almost daring people to comment. I was in my 'here I am, world' phase.

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But now that I've passed my mid-20s, and I feel more self-conscious than ever about my boobs. 

Perhaps it's because I spend more time in the office than at clubs. Or maybe I'm sick of using my body to make a statement, or perhaps I'm bitter, and I've realised that no matter how much I fight against it, I must accept to a certain extent that some people will always sexualise me or judge me based on my boobs. 

The reality of being big-busted is also endlessly frustrating. Trying to find shirts that do up or constantly having to find very high-neck tops, so my boobs are contained and therefore don't overshadow me is a hassle. 

I've found that I spent half my life trying to find clothes that make me feel like more than just the girl with big boobs.

My big boobs also hold me back from participating in some fashion trends or dressing how I'd like. Take the latest trend of corset tops. If I wear one, it makes my boobs look very full and very big, and therefore it just doesn't feel suitable for any other occasion than some kind of nighttime activity. It's annoying because I'd love to become part of the corset top, baggy jeans, blazer brigade at work. Now, of course, no one is stopping me from doing that. 

I could wear a corset top any time of day, but I'm simply not comfortable with the attention it attracts, so I don't bother.

Having big boobs sounds fabulous in theory, and sometimes I look in the mirror and think they look great. But it is the least interesting thing about me. 

I have a great deal more to offer than any aspect of my physicality projects. 

Mostly, I spend my life trying to cover up my chest and be seen as a fully fleshed-out person and not just someone with big boobs.

Feature Image: Supplied.

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