Case in point: for the recent past none of my bras have fit well. I’m always tugging at them, readjusting them, cursing them. Because last summer I had gone to a well-known lingerie shop and been measured, I assumed that I must be doing something wrong. Although I thought it was strange that the (very) young lady who helped me thought my chest had gotten smaller (which has never happened in my adult life, even after having my daughter. People warned me that they would get huge during pregnancy and then shrivel up thereafter, but my twins refused to budge either way), I still figure that I must be wearing the bra she suggested incorrectly. So, I went about my days, cursing my unruly chest rather than assuming that anyone else could be wrong.
Today I decided to buck the tradition of trusting others over what I instinctively/logically knew to be true, and bought a 36D rather than 36C bra. And voila! No need to tug, rearrange, or grunt in frustration; the damn thing actually fits.
I share this story because A) I can still laugh at myself and my foibles, and B) I think that it reflects a particularly female tendency to avoid arguing with anyone who we think knows better than we do about something, even our own bodies.
Often I find it difficult to argue with anyone who is a “professional” in a field where I feel inadequate/incompetent/uncertain, so I tend to always default to the mechanic, store clerk, etc., even though I cringe when other women openly do so. I wonder if this is a feeling that other women have when they are faced with decisions/suggestions/diagnoses that don’t seem quite right but they can’t articulate why or formulate what may seem like a reasonable objection? Are we still surrounded by societal expectations to defer, act demure, and trust someone else? Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, including but not limited to your own humorous and/or serious anecdotes about accepting or challenging “experts.”
Thanks to theemptynestmom.com for the image!