I do love showing off my boobs in a ladylike way, scratch that, I meant in a not so ladylike way.

After a friend of mine linked me to a Guardian article where some male authors insisted that they are living proof that the can write an ‘authentic female protagonist,’ he, unfortunately, misses the mark. With lines such as “a nice set of curves if I do say so myself, pants so impossibly tight that is if had had a credit card in my back pocket you could read the expiration date,” I would have to take a gander and suggest that perhaps, he has tried these incredibly tight-fitting trousers hence his ‘authentic’ view.

But it doesn’t stop there, oh no, there seems to be a trend amongst some male authors that feel the need to describe our “ample, poignant breasts” (courtesy of Paul Auster). This so-called male author who is the living proof that he can, indeed, write an authentic female protagonist wrote, “And, of course, my boobs. I had them propped up all front and center, in a perfectly ladylike way. Well, kind of. Okay, not really that ladylike.”

However, I don’t think I’ve ever given my own breasts much thought, but maybe I should be giving them the attention that these male authors get so right.

My breasts are propped upright, standing for attention that I am starved for because I know that in order to get anything done here, just show a bit of boob to that male gaze.

Ah, maybe I’m not as talented as my male counter-part. Perhaps I could write an authentic view of a male protagonist, let’s try, shall we?

He ran down the stairs realising his balls were slapping against his leg, shit he thought, I forgot my underwear again.

That’s accurate, right? Apologise for my foul language, it is the end of term and I am 100% burnt out. But I would say it’s an accurate description of a male protagonist’s day-to-day life.

The point is to this satirical blog piece is to just let people know, just because you can, doesn’t mean you always should. There are consequences to your words as much as there is to your actions and we could all stand to treat people like, well, people.

As I leave with my breasts leading the way, I’ll part you with a gift, Rupi Kaur performing one of her beautifully written poems.





Boobs. (disclaimer, some foul language used)