I can pinpoint the exact moment that I first encountered women’s breasts being portrayed in a sexual way. I was about seven years old and was in the little village post office, come newsagent, come hardware store, come sweet shop, in the very rural part of North Yorkshire where my family lived. I was having my usual quandary as to how best to spend my ten pence. I could either get a little white paper bag of 10p’s worth of sherbet pips or I could get 10p’s worth of assorted 1p sweets. Invariably I went for the latter, as I loved the whole process of choosing ten different sweets. Black Jacks, Fruit Salads and Outer Spacers were always a non-negotiable part of my mix. Whilst pondering the almost magical assortment of different boxes and jars of sweets, I looked up at the top shelf and saw the front cover of a ‘girly magazine’. I distinctly remember the photo on the front, not of the woman’s face, but of her bare breasts and the fact that her arms were above her head.
As a child my ensuing involvement with women’s breasts consisted mainly of stolen glances here and there. For example, I can remember whilst my family picked their way along Bournemouth Beach, looking for enough space to be able to unload their buckets and spades, having a quick peek at a woman who had taken her bikini straps down to get a better tan. I used the same clandestine glances in the women’s changing room whilst Mum was getting changed after her squash games. Oh and of course growing up in England in the 70s there was the obligatory ‘Carry On’ films and the mild titillation at the sight of Barbara Windsor losing her top.
The only time as a child that things went a bit further than that, was when a friend of mine found her brother’s pornographic magazines and she and I spent a few afternoons not really understanding what the people in the photos were doing but feeling a sort of excited compulsion to look anyway.
All pretty ‘normal’ stuff you may think but what I have recently come to realise is that what I also regarded as very normal and harmless was in fact neither.
You see my pubescent involvement in the portrayal of women’s breasts as being objects for sexual gratification, coupled with my subsequent choice to both look at and think about a woman’s breasts in a sexual way, condemned my view of women’s breasts to be that of fundamentally providing pleasure and titillation, (as well as the obligatory feeding of babies). I narrowed down their purpose to that of a mere speck of their original true nature, whilst at the same time narrowing down my relationship with my own breasts to that of pure function. It may sound like I am being hard on myself, I am not. I am simply laying down the bare facts. How could any man that I was with feel the deeper qualities of a woman’s body if the woman he was with saw her own body as nothing more than a vehicle in which to move her around her day, a functioning albeit living organism to transport her from A to B?
Over the last six or seven years or so, my relationship with myself has changed dramatically and as a result of that, my relationship with my breasts has also changed.
I have gone from being a woman with very little self worth to a woman who is coming to know and appreciate her true value as a woman.
The Esoteric Breast Massage has played a key role in enabling me to feel that my breasts are a fundamental part of my whole being, as opposed to appendages there for the pleasure of others. By carrying the view of women’s breasts as sexual objects I added to the global ignorance that abounds around the topic, whilst at the same time sabotaging my own ability to convey truth through a woman’s body.
All this has come to light as a result of my recent awareness around my hitherto assumed sexual attraction to women’s breasts. Up until very recently I had never taken the time to really examine my attitude and behaviour towards the objectification of women’s breasts. As my awareness grew I made a conscious effort to stop looking at or thinking about women’s breasts in a sexual way and found that in doing so, my assumed sexual attraction petered out to nothing.
What this has revealed to me is that the aspects that I consider to be ‘me’, are not locked in at all, in fact I have to permanently ‘feed’ them in order to be keep them alive.
This is absolutely colossal because it therefore leads to the natural conclusion that we are all constantly creating our reality as we go.
The world is made manifest by the energy we choose to live and move with, which then results in the quality of our thoughts and behaviours, which then, in turn further creates the world we live in. When we come to remember that energy is fuelling the quality of our thoughts and behaviours, it gives us the power to change anything and everything that we see by taking responsibility for the quality of energy we are choosing to allow into our bodies.
By taking responsibility for my behaviour around the objectification of women’s breasts I, in effect, chose to stop saying ‘yes’ to a very specific sexual energy entering my body.
Sexual energy comes from an energetic source that does not and can not contain love and anything that can not contain love can not possibly come from truth and anything that doesn’t come from truth is not part of our natural way. Love and truth are our natural way but we have deviated so far from our path that we now live in a world that is saturated with sexual energy and we see that as normal. But it is not normal, it is not normal for us.
When making love, as opposed to having sex, it’s very natural to feel sexual but these feelings are borne out of a completely different energy to the energy that impulses ‘just sex’. They are borne out of love and therein lies a world of difference.
As a result of taking responsibility for the quality of energy that I was allowing in, I stopped contributing to the fabricated belief that the only purpose of a woman’s breasts is to feed or titillate others. Not only that but by removing the false beliefs that I held around women’s breasts, I am left with the lived understanding that a woman’s body is there to emanate stillness, a silent call back to the Oneness that we are all from.
By Anonymous, Australia
For further inspiration…
Who creates the image of women?
What do you mean, do I have a relationship with my breasts? Heather explains why you’d want one.