Our “Real Women. Real Stories.” series continues today with Christine’s story. Christine shares one of the lies she most frequently hears when she looks in the mirror. This series features the real women (not actresses!) who shared their real life body image battles in the video trailer for the book, Compared to Who? Five Proven Steps to Improve Your Body Image. You may also want to check out Christine’s story in the behind the scenes video featured here.
Name: Christine Salinas
My Sign Says: Flat-chested
When I first heard this lie:
I was in 7th grade, sitting at the lunch table with my friends and my new boyfriend. We were all kidding around, probably talking about someone else, some “outsider.” I wanted so bad to be really admired by being with this guy. I wanted so bad for him to love me.
Then the tables turned. Next thing I knew he was comparing the crumbs on the table to the size of my chest. He even gave hand motions showing there was no real difference between the table and the crumbs. Like little bumps. I was mortified. And then I knew. I knew that he and everyone else didn’t think my chest was good enough. In 7th grade!
Between that event and the onset of puberty (later than most of my friends), I tried desperately to prove myself to be the cutest, the sexiest, to be THE ONE wanted by guys. At the age of 15 I landed myself a steady boyfriend and quickly gave him what I thought would keep him around. I used sex in an attempt to cure my body image issues.
When I most often hear it now:
Summer. When I see the mannequin in a cute dress and it doesn’t look that great on me.
What I do when I look in the mirror and hear the lie:
I’m tempted with thoughts of having a boob job done, even under conviction that it would not solve any real issues I have.
What I pray for women who share the same struggle I do:
Lord, help women who struggle with a smaller chest than what is considered ideal to know that they are not defined by a tape measure or a cup size.
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Thank you for sharing your story. My own is very similar. I remember in 6th grade, walking down the crowded hallway, and a group of older boys bursting out laughing as I passed by, and one of them loudly saying “ironing board!”
It struck deeply, and I remember at that moment my internal obsession began. From that point on, I could not wait to finally get boobs and gain the approval of my peers.
Like you, my puberty was late. And even after Aunt Flow came to visit (at the matronly age of 16) still no boobs.
Like you, I felt that proving my own desirability was important, and I used sex to try and convince myself and others that I had value.
My teen years are a tragic tale of low self esteem.
Anyway, here we are, many years later. I am now a 42 year old mother of 7 exclusively breastfed babies.
The Lord did miraculously fill these suckers with plenty of milk over and over… and over and over and over again! And on some particularly painfully engorged and swollen days, I even reached the all-glorious rock solid agonizing and coveted “C-cup”.
And now that the baby making and feeding season has passed, I’m back to my same old flat chest, with the added non-aesthetic-ness of drooping nipples. Joy.
I quite literally cannot wear a bra. Bras just slide up and over my nipples, precisely as they would on a flat chested toddler boy. And bralessness can be pretty depressing whenever I try to wear women’s tops.
All week long I wear men’s t-shirts since their crew necks and thicker cotton adequately cover my chest.
But on the Lord’s day, I try to wear “church clothes” (dressy, casual, women’s attire) and it is a nightmare. Literally nothing fits.
I would love to just be perfectly content with my body, but I’m just not. I feel different, abnormal, and definitely NOT sexy.
It’s pretty sad. And fake boobs are not an option. With 7 kids, there’s no way boobs are in the budget.
No happy ending in this story, sorry. I just wanted to chime I that you are definitely not alone!
Woops, it was supposed to say “chime in” not chime I.
Hey there, thank you so much for sharing your story too. I know you are not alone either. It’s interesting to think about the era of the 1920s when everyone wanted to be flat chested. I think this is a good reminder of why chasing the culture’s standard of beauty is so hard – we’ll never be enough – and even if we get there – a decade later the standard will change, again!! I hope you’ll check out my book, Compared to Who? — I totally understand the struggle of never feeling beautiful enough. I don’t like to cover this struggle with platitudes like “Just remember you’re beautiful” or “it’s what’s on the inside that counts” – Instead I hope to offer a fresh perspective by looking at the real, spiritual root of why we get stuck wishing we had a better body. I pray it will encourage you!! It is possible to have a VERY happy ending -without a bigger chest! 🙂 Hugs and grace!
Women who have a small chest look more athletic. There are tons of guys who like that look.
I can totally relate to the struggle ladies. I was a C cup until I got pregnant, jumped up to a D, which my husband loved, and now I struggle to believe he loves my post-nursing saggy A’s–even though he assures me he does. Lol! Years ago I had a friend get implants and thought how could she do that?! But now, I feel the temptation sometimes. I just can’t justify it though. I’m sure I’d feel better about myself (most days) with firmer and slightly larger breasts, but is that the point of my existence here? To feel better about myself? Why should the size of my bust have any impact whatsoever on the work that God has for me here. I wonder what we will look like in heaven…will we even care? For my daughter’s sake, I don’t want to send a message that boobs are important enough to spend money on…so I will continue to press in to my identity in Christ and resist the temptation to confirm the lie that my boobs matter in the big picture. Thanks for sharing Christine!
Oh, Christine. A and AA women of the world unite! It’s better in stores now, but when I was a teen it was hard to find an A cup bra. Now some brands call me petite. Um. Thanks. I think. One lingerie company calls me athletic. That’s a hoot. I try to exercise but I am NOT athletic. Venus Williams is athletic. And not an A cup. Speaking of hoot, do you hate Hooters restaurant as much as I do? I want to shake the women who work there and tell them, “Don’t let this company reduce you to boobs!” I could go on all day. Thanks for sharing your struggle, Christine. You’re the Woman. (Speaking of Woman, did you hear they told Gal Gadot her boobs were too small to play Wonder Woman? I wouldn’t cross Wonder Woman. She will take you OUT.)
Thanks so much Wendy for the encouragement! I do hate Hooter for so many reasons. I am sad for the women that work there because they still feel like their value is found in their chest. I am sad for the men who go there for the fact that they are affirming the idea of objectifying women. I am sad for the women who go there who are either objectifying, comparing, or affirming to their men that it’s okay to do those things. I don’t care what people say, it’s not about the wings – they can’t be that great to steal little pieces of your soul.