Today, my Twittersphere is all abuzz with talk about BewbFest ’09.  This is an event where a bunch of women (and a few men) sent in pictures of their racks to get voted on for a chance to win some lingerie.

Now, I considered ‘competing’.  But I thought it was a pretty silly idea, to be honest — I mean, what’s the point?  I put a picture of my considerably-less-teensy-than-pre-baby-but-still-small boobies out there for … what purpose?  To look at the competition and feel horrible about myself?  My boob self-esteem has been small (haha?) for a long, long time.  When you are born with hips like mine, hips like WHOA you might even say, and then have no rack to match… I feel so bottom-heavy.  I always have.  And now that I’m “rounding out” even more (that’s a euphemism), I’m really self-conscious about my breast size.

But you know what?  As I browsed the BewbFest this morning and picked my three favourites (the ones that looked most familiar [probably because I was hella engorged last night], the cutest ones [white tank tops ftw], and the ones I think Chris would most like to motorboat [never say I don't think of you!]), I wished I’d sent in my own.  Sure, you know, they’re not as eye-catching as some (all) of the others.  Sure, I don’t have any cute bras or dangly necklaces or adorable bikini tops to decorate them.

But… if they’re good enough for this:

They’re good enough for the Internet. (Yes, that was just a lame way to post yet another picture of my beautiful daughter. Welcome to my blog.)

Which is why, ONCE THE FUCKING ZIT BETWEEN THEM GOES AWAY (hello hormones, bite my ass), I will be getting the girls as fancy as I can and bringing their glory over to BoobEmancipation.com.  I’ll probably post anonymously as I’m a little wary of people following a link here just because they liked my boobs, but still, I’ll be there.

All of this brings me to the main point of this post: Why? Why are we showing off our boobs to our female bloggy friends?  Yes, I know that some men see them.  I also know that “showing off” our boobs to men is the goal of neither BewbFest ’09 nor BoobEmancipation.  Women are behind these sites.  Women bloggers, in fact.  It’s the women in my Twitterverse who are promoting these things.  I can guarantee that if a man (even a friend!) approached me and said, “Hey, I’m starting a website to show off boobs, can I get a picture of yours?” I wouldn’t even consider it.

But make that a female friend, and I’ll think about it.

Again: why?

Because I think she’s probably been where I am, feeling alternately incredibly proud of her body for producing and sustaining life but ashamed because it doesn’t measure up to her impossible standards in one minute way or another.  I’d bet that woman has stood in front of a mirror, poked at a flaw that no one else in the world notices, and felt her heart crumble into pieces.  She, too, has stumbled over receiving a compliment, searching for sarcasm behind the words, downplaying someone’s kindness with a self-deprecating comment.

I took this picture today:

I shared it on Twitter not because I like it, but because I love how happy Maia looks.  It’s in black and white because the unevenness of my skin tone, the sheen of oil and sweat upon it, and the not-pearly-white of my teeth are too obvious otherwise.  And I actually had to convince myself not to crop the image so only Maia showed because I felt so damned self-conscious.

After posting the image, Maia and I went out for a walk.  When I came back home, Chris had responded: “This is such an awesome picture.”

So I looked at it again.

And, knowing he liked it, I liked it more.  In fact, now I think it’s kind of cute.  I actually look happy.  I didn’t take that picture while feeling self-conscious; I took it while giggling over how happy and adorable Maia was being.  I didn’t hesitate.  I didn’t pose.  I didn’t consider angles or lighting.  I just wanted to capture my baby girl being so excited about life.

But when we talked later, and he again complimented me on the picture, my first response was: “Oh, I don’t like it.”  Fuck. I do too like it. So I corrected myself: “I mean, I didn’t like it.  When I saw that you did, I looked at it again, and I like it now.”

Some woman out there who has shared her picture on BewbFest ’09 or BoobEmancipation is nodding her head right now and sympathizing, recognizing herself in my actions.  It’s that cosmic sisterhood (I know it’s cheesy, but just go with it) that lets me feel comfortable with the thought of sharing, as well.

I’m not going to tell you all when I’m in the spotlight.  I’m happy to do it anonymously… but it will be done!

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Don’t forget about my Babies of 2009 Carnival coming up on July 1st! Please help me spread the word.