For 6 months last year
I stopped wearing a bra.
After 11 years of wearing a bra almost every single day,
I starting pulling my shirts and dresses over a completely bare upper half:
No lifting, uncomfortable straps.
For 6 months
I did this.
I was in a state of perpetual stress, and wanted to test a theory:
That wildness was a quality
that I could inject into a personality
that was otherwise over-analytic and list-obsessed.
My spirit was searching.
So, I started wearing baggier clothes
to hide the lack of perfect rounding.
Fabric fell loosely over my chest.
I felt less
No... what I felt was less manufactured
I know this next bit will sound insane,
but I grew up Catholic, so I didn’t touch my body, and suddenly I was fondling
the substance of my breasts. With a little bit of shock, I thought: Wait...
and I caressed them.
Went further and nervously lead an exhibition
across the surface of my skin.
Had I ever touched my skin like this?
Not counting the hours I’d spend in front of the mirror
trying to squeeze out every imperfection;
hide my puffy face underneath the covers that I slept in.
And I found that I was ravenous.
Christine Bissonnette (she/her) is an emerging performance poet and writer, originally from Nova Scotia and now based in Vancouver, BC. She has her BA in English and creative writing from UNB, Fredericton. Her poetry has been featured in audio format as part of Downtown Vancouver’s poetry phone installation, and on the Stories Less Spoken Podcast.