Women Have Nipples that have Shapes. Why Do We Hide Them?

I don't know when exactly we all started being required to have perfectly round Barbie tits, but I know it has not always been this way. There was a time when women wore bras that did not 100% disguise the fact that they had nipples, and it was not a noteworthy occurrence. I remember my mother, when I was growing up, had a slew of bras that were just underwire and thin, cotton fabric cups.

If I wore a bra like that, my nips would be on display. I'm not talking about being able to see the full outline and certainly not the color, just the fact that they existed and were raised from the breast. All of my bras are significantly padded, and it still doesn't always 100% do the trick.

Certain celebrities are notorious for having this "problem". Jennfier Aniston, for example, often has a little nippage on display. Still, when she does, people point it out. Like it's news that this woman has nipples. When Anne Hathaway let hers fly at the Oscars this year, it was a story. This is just so asinine to me.

I believe that you have to be the change you want to see in the world, so I will no longer be supporting this notion that the vague shape of nipples is somehow trashy or obscene. These are parts of the female body that are not only beautiful and unique from person to person, but hugely important in the function of motherhood and even sensuality. No more 2" padded bras that completely change the shape of my breasts. No more taping them down in dresses that cannot be worn with a bra.

I'm done. Who's coming with me?

On Breasts, and Getting Attached to them

I'm not typically a voluptuous woman, and I've never had a problem with that. At a young age I accepted the fact that I simply wasn't going to have hips or big boobs and made do with what I had. My lack of curves was a trade off for the ease with which I always maintained a flat tummy and a god-given ability to tone up without a particularly strenuous exercise regiment. Staying relatively skinny was pretty much my only physical goal, and I never had trouble attracting guys. Life was good.

Then, I suddenly grew boobs this spring, and I knew something was afoot. That was honestly the first thing that made me know I was pregnant. "These things don't belong here," I reasoned, "So I must be knocked up." Turns out I was right, but I did not yet know how attached I would become to my new lady lumps.

As time progressed, I stacked on some other, similarly cushy assets. My butt has a tendency to jiggle when I walk now, and I can physically feel its weight. When I sit down, it's like someone sneaked in a giant, comfy cushion as I was lowering myself into my seat. It is comfortable, which is nice, because I've been warned to enjoy any comfort I can get, while I still can. Aside from that benefit though, is a new found feeling of womanliness that is not familiar for me.

I've never had to force my breasts into a size small blouse before yesterday, and I'm definitely not used to feeling curvy. For now, while my belly is still barely noticeable and my assets fairly new, I am thoroughly enjoying being a more full-figured woman. I often catch myself gazing at my own cleavage. I sometimes give my booty a squeeze when no one is looking. I admit it. I'm already dreading the day I stop breastfeeding and start to lose my new chesticles. It's depressing.

Then again, I know that if I gained this weight without the excuse of a pregnancy, I would be disgusted with myself. I've only gained maybe ten pounds or so, but the weight is evident everywhere from the fun parts, like my chest and butt, to not so fun parts, like my new thunder thighs. Under the circumstances, I have learned to embrace my new upper thighs, which touch when I walk. Any other time, I wouldn't have a moment of it.

I think part of my love for my new body shape is unrelated to the sudden growth of bigger "sexy" parts. It stems from my love for the baby growing inside of me. It's nice that he needs me to grow incredibly awesome boobage and a nice, round booty, but I wouldn't really mind if he required a third arm to sprout out of my chest. Whatever happens to my body now, I can mostly undo in a few months, so it's fine that my little unborn boy is the boss. Not that I could have it any other way, even if I wanted.

Of course, I may just feel less blissful in four months when my belly is huge and swollen, my ankles puff up every day, and I have to pee constantly. You'll just have to check back with me then.