On the randomness of bodies, boobs, and identities

There’s been lots of comment drama at the Hairpin today in response to this article on breast reduction surgery. I haven’t been in the position of the author, but I’m kind of tired of all the supposedly “feminist” hand-wringing over body modifications. I’m lucky to be comfortable with what the genetic lottery gave me (plus my ink and a couple piercings), but a lot of people don’t feel that way. (I’ll admit that in the past I’ve made a few less-than-generous comments about other people’s breast augmentations. Sorry.) But it isn’t just “blah blah the media is evil,” “blah blah ‘normal’ is bad.” The complexities of identity deserve more than that. And all this rhetoric of “accept yourself as you are” (aka “natural is better,” whateverthefuck that means) so easily slides into totally unreflexive transphobia.  I think that’s the part that’s really heartbreaking to me. Can’t we just come to terms with the fact that some people are utterly (and often miserably) alienated from the bodies they were born into, whether that’s something as simple (ha!) as breasts, or as complex as gender?

P.S. You can have my smoking hot body and perky boobs but you get lupus to go with it. Deal?

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