Bras as a Metaphor for Self-Care…Or Lack Thereof…

Author: Avital O’Glasser, MD

I recently realized I had not bought new bras since before the beginning of the pandemic.
Not only that, but I had become complacent with the state of the bras that cycled through being worn, going through the laundry, and ending up in the top drawer of my dresser.

My current bras had become saggy, lifeless, increasingly unsupportive–sometimes to the point of support being non-existent.  I found myself quipping–”kind of like my self-care!”

(Insert dear-in-the-headlights-aha moment.)

Bras. 

Bras. Bras. Bras. Braziers.

I’ve had a love/hate (mostly hate) relationship with bras for nearly thirty years.  I’ve been chesty since the day I hit puberty, and three pregnancies, two kids, a combined 27 months of breastfeeding, and hundreds of PMS cycles later, I have truly ridden the roller coaster ride of bra (and self-care) needs.

I’ve had bras for every kind of occasion.  “Everyday” bras, nice occasion bras, exercise bras, tank tops with built-in bras, pregnancy bras, nursing bras.  Were they ever what I really needed in the moment? Were they, instead, something that someone else told me I needed?  Did they bind and confine? Did they minimize and muzzle? Did they leave groves in my shoulders and impressions in my back?

Oh, and don’t forget strapless bras!  I suppose that’s a whole separate layer of self-care metaphor… And do NOT get me started on the bras with interchangeable straps that “let” you contort into crossback, razorback, scratch-my-back, zigzag through the next eight hours.  As many (including Dr. Darilyn Moyer) have said, “You can’t yoga your way out of burnout”--I can’t contort my way out of this unsupportive situation. 

And then we get to the maintenance phase of being a bra wearer–”HAND WASH ONLY! Machine wash on delicate cycle only if you dare (and no one is looking). LAY FLAT ON A BED OF ANGEL KISSES and don’t let them even see the outside of a dryer.”  Who has time for that!?  Mine go in the regular washer cycle and the regular dryer cycle with the rest of my laundry riff raff.  Oh wait, maybe that’s why they wear out so quickly… seems like I just stumbled upon another facet of the self-care metaphor…

Maybe you embraced the bra-free culture of the pandemic and telehealth.  Good for you! But did you abandon self-care at the same time? Is no bra better than a worn-out, unsupportive bra? Is no self-care better than performative, societal-pressure, toxic “self-care”?  Well…maybe, just maybe… Perhaps the analogy here is that sometimes the best self-care is to NOT adhere to rigid, stiff, stifling, tight-lipped engrained dogma and institutional cultures but to embrace the art of letting it all hang out.  Embrace the sag.  Be authentic. Embrace those vulnerabilities!

Three and a half years since the start of the pandemic, I feel like I’ve reached an equilibrium.  I can anticipate and modify to achieve balance.  I have bra-days and non-bra-days.  While they may all be wearing out, I have a variety of bras for multiple occasions in my drawer.  I’m better at adjusting a strap or a band clasp setting.  (Oh, and my self-care and mental health are in a much better position, too, as I’ve gained a variety of self-care tools.)

Several weekends ago, I was digging through the back of my closet looking for something.  I found a stack of several bras that I had bought right before the start of the pandemic and stashed away for when the ones in current circulation wore out.  I had completely forgotten about them–the tools I needed for support were there…but not being utilized. I was about to toss them into my dresser drawer right there on the spot–and then I paused to ponder.  Were these the bras I really needed now, almost four years after I bought them? Did they fit? Did they work with my current wardrobe? Or did they uphold an outdated, antiquated expectation? Were they living up to someone else’s gender and body-type norm!?  Were they high maintenance, hand-wash only and then gently blowing kisses at them to uphold the ideal yet suffocating drying process!?!? 

Would I be squeezing and stuffing and contorting and confirming myself into a position that did not support me–ME!–in the present?  

Turns out one of them was an uncomfortable push-up bra–seemingly supportive from the sides, completely unsupportive at the core.  NOPE. No thank you. Not even going to try to tough that one out.

I think it’s time to invest in some new bras.  It’s time to better invest in me.

About the author: Avital O’Glasser, MD, is a hospitalist at Oregon Health & Science University and the editor of the WIMS blog and co-editor of the WIMS Book (Twitter: @aoglasser).