Tits and TEDx: A day in the life of a feminist…
I was a chubby, awkward kid. By the time I was 11, my breasts were already growing in ways that felt like too much too soon for my child-mind to absorb. It’s not like I was ever a confident kid. But when I started to develop, I turned inward, hunched over, curved my shoulders to hide my chest.
I realize this is pointless to say but there’s something anatomically unfair when our bodies start to develop before our brains are ready. Granted, there’s not much we can do about this, I suppose, but I wanted to issue my grievance to the universe anyway. OK, onward.
I have scoliosis. I was born with a dislocated hip and spent my first year in a neck-to-ankles body cast. From birth, I felt a little broken. More than that, I felt like my body existed only to betray me.
All of this to say that, like too many women, I’ve never had a comfortable relationship with my body. Agree or not, like it or not, that is how I have always felt. As a result, I was certain that my “job” as a young person was to cultivate an interesting personality, a reasonably well functioning brain, and perhaps a sense of humor to get by in a world that would judge me on my looks.
Fortunately I managed to offload a lot of that crap as I got older. And now that I’ve recently crossed over into a new decade — I’m 50! — I’m feeling a stronger sense of ownership and comfort in my body than ever before.
Getting older feels great! Except my boobs were not exactly cooperating. I probably didn’t take full advantage of them when they were in the right place, and recently they’ve been migrating south. So, once again, my body and brain were not on the same page. But this time, I decided to do something about it.
Why not give myself a 50th birthday present, I thought?
In April, I was invited to Lebanon to give a TEDx talk — ten years after my first one. The timing felt right — and it made sense to me to “tits and TEDx” in the same period. Lebanese doctors are great, and the country is a hub for cosmetic surgery. Boob and nose adjustments are extremely common. So I booked my boobs in for a breast lift — two weeks before my TEDx talk.
Wait… what’s a breast lift?
Also known as mastopexy, a breast lift is a surgical procedure to raise and reshape sagging breasts. It involves removing excess skin and tightening the breast tissue — basically turning back the clock on your boobs. It’s not a reduction, per se, although it might have that effect. Many women combine this with a reduction or enlargement if they need one or the other. If you’re going under, might as well… but I didn’t.
It seems that breast lifts are becoming more popular. Maybe it’s my age, but I know lots of women who’ve done it.
“I wish I did this 15 years ago,” one of them told me.
“I don’t care who knows or if it’s not obvious or visible… I know, and it has changed the way I carry myself,” another said.
“These days no one sees me naked but me. All the more reason to make sure I like what I see!” said another.
Pretty strong endorsements. And — I agree.
The American Society of Plastic Surgeons (ASPS) reports that breast lifts have increased by 70% since 2000. More recent data from the ASPS shows a 30% increase in breast lift procedures from 2019 to 2022. Interestingly, some reports suggest that the growth in breast lifts is outpacing breast augmentation procedures.
Yes, boobs have always been victims of the latest trends. One day bigger is better (and they can’t be “too big”) and the next day we’re told that little boobs are back in style. I wonder if we’re expected to simply inflate or deflate them based on the dictates of the day. Just like the rest of our bodies.
So, why are breast lifts more popular now?
Well, aging and gravity play a part. Breasts, like the rest of our bodies, naturally lose elasticity and sag. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this — it happens to all of us. But it’s also up to us to decide how we feel about it — and what we choose to do about it. A lift addresses the sag without adding volume.
Pregnancy and breastfeeding also causes the ligaments supporting the breasts to stretch. That stuff… it’s no easy job! And then weight fluctuations cause boobs to grow and contract. Significant weight loss can leave excess skin and result in further sagging.
The popularity of the procedure is probably because today we’re more comfy talking about cosmetic work. There’s less stigma attached. And women are more free to explore their options — should they want to. Because — and this should be obvious — our bodies belong to us.
Let me be clear. I don’t care who “thinks” I did — or did not — need to do this. I did it for me. And no, it’s not the patriarchy feeding me rubbish about my body. I’m too smart for that crap. Men’s views of my body are not my focus. In fact, I think the men who’ve seen me naked will be rather surprised about this — none have ever said anything that wasn’t extremely flattering about my boobs or my body. I appreciate the compliments, but still, I don’t serve them or serve their views.
The older I get, the more my body becomes my own. It’s a wonderful thing, aging. And then there’s menopause, a messy business to be sure, but one that prompts a rethink about who we are and what we want — inside and out.
So, that being said, as a feminist, you know I’m going to dig into some feminist perspectives on boobs, and on lifts in particular. There are arguments for and against. Here we go!
First, and above all else, it’s about CHOICE. Bodily autonomy. The stuff feminism has championed since, well, the beginning of feminism. Advocating for a woman’s right to make her own decisions about her body is what we do. And it’s what we seem to keep doing, over and over and over, day after decade, because those rights keep getting stolen from us!
The point here is that if a woman chooses to undergo a breast lift for her own personal satisfaction and to feel more comfortable and confident in her body, step aside, because that’s her exercising her autonomy!
Linked to this is the desire to reclaim our bodies — especially if our bodies have changed due to pregnancy, breastfeeding, weight loss, or many other factors. A breast lift is one way we can feel more like ourselves — reclaiming a sense of ownership over our own bodies.
And linked to this, some women choose this procedure to address personal discomfort. It is tiring carrying boobs around every day. A breast lift can alleviate some of the discomfort, bringing greater physical ease. When we prioritize our physical well-being, it is a form of self-care, which aligns with feminist principles of valuing our health and happiness.
Let’s migrate over to the other side for a sec. There are many who’d argue that cosmetic surgery can be seen as conforming to certain beauty standards, and that we’re pandering to the patriarchy. We exist in a world where internalized societal pressures and patriarchal beauty standards dictate how women’s bodies should look. Choosing surgery to conform to these standards might be seen as reinforcing rather than challenging these outdated views.
Others might argue that emphasizing appearance over substance is superficial, and distracts from more important issues of equality and empowerment in other areas of life. I’m not saying I subscribe to this — obviously — but I’m laying out the arguments here for us all to consider.
And then there’s the “male gaze” — the way the world depicts women from a toxic masculine perspective, reducing us to sexual objects for their pleasure. Boobs are a big factor here. Yes, we are too often socialized to see ourselves through the eyes of men. If we’re getting a breast lift to attract — or retain — male attention, then this reinforces the dynamic.
Feminists might also critique the medical establishment for framing natural changes to women’s bodies (like sagging due to aging or breastfeeding) as problems that need to be “fixed” through surgery. These are beautiful, natural changes that do not need “repair.”
There isn’t a single feminist stance on breast lifts. Just like there isn’t a singular feminist. In the end, it should depend on our individual needs, circumstances, and motivations. Meaning: CHOICE.
For me personally, I had a little think about it, I reflected on my options, I understood their implications, and made my choice with a clear conscience and full feminist conviction, owning my body and my mind. So, I’m good.
And two weeks after my procedure, with slightly-sore boobs, I was on stage standing in the little red circle delivering my second TEDx talk.
No, I didn’t talk about my boobs. The talk centered on hope. Owning it, reframing it, bringing it to life. As a feminist activist, hope is a slippery thing, especially with the world as it is. You’ll have to watch the video when it comes out to get the whole story.
What connects these stories of “tits and TEDx” — beyond alliteration of course?
The point is that as a woman — and as a feminist — I can do many things. I can be many things.
And right now, I enjoy being ALL things.
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Need more feminist perspectives on… everything?! Yeah, me too. Head to www.LinaAbiRafeh.com and click on Join the Movement. And live your best feminist life!
