DICHOTOMY

In fifth grade I joined the volleyball team. I distinctly remember changing into shorts and a jersey with my teammate, BJ. We had ducked into a hall restroom. When she saw me with my top off, she said, "You need a bra."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, look at me." she said, drawing attention to her chest with her hands. Though flat, she looked very young lady like in her training bra.

I started wearing lose fitting tops in an effort to hide my new found young womanhood. More than anything I wanted to blend, the thought of standing out for good or ill terrified me.

One of my favorite Friends episodes shows Phoebe and Joey at Central Perk. She's sharing her concern that there must be something wrong with her because the guy she's dating hasn't made a move. Joey tells her one of the first things he commented to his friends about her was that she has a cute butt and great rack.

"Really?" she asked, then added, "I'm officially offended, but thanks." This dichotomy is typical of the female experience. As women we want to be judged on our merits without the cloud our perceived beauty or plainness puts before the lens. Notwithstanding, it's always nice to be noticed and appreciated. So we're constantly warring within about what to wear or how to present ourselves.

I realized this once again while donating blood plasma at CSL Plasma in Salt Lake City. I asked the phlebotomist, "Is she OK?" referring to a gal with five techs hovering. She confirmed my guess.

"It doesn't take five people to stick one donor, they're ogling her breasts." Despite my efforts to conceal myself and prevent flopping or flapping, jealousy toward a complete stranger with five onlookers at her side welled up in me 'til the voice inside my head shouted, if she gets five, my breasts are worthy of - at least three!