- Date posted
- 7y
I feel triggered by the sight and shape of breasts. My anxiety goes away when the other person puts on a coat. But when she takes it off, I feel like I am trying to have a normal conversation while strobe lights are going on from her breasts. I am female. I feel distressed at this fixation and sad because it interferes with my ability to connect with the other person, and I really value my image of myself as sociable and warm. But I just can’t shake this sense that breasts are an aberration, that they shouldn’t be there, and I’m puzzled at how people can go on with life as usual when they have these weird things on their body. Breasts, to me, feel “other.” When this anxiety arises, I wonder: Is this OCD, or should I just accept myself as queer, or is this sense of breasts as “other” actually a psychological outcome of having very petite breasts and a mother with literally no breasts? Or maybe all three explanations are in part true? Whatever it is, the scariest thing is that it may always keep happening to me. It’s been going on now for almost 30 years! I did OCD treatment but am not entirely sure that OCD is the best explanation of what’s going on here.