I Recently Shared a Photo of Myself Paddle Boarding, and My Friends’ Reactions Took Me by Surprise

As you reach the age of 50, if you’re like most people and not excessively optimistic, you might find yourself grappling with a bit of a midlife crisis. The weight of regrets feels heavier, old injuries from attempts to impress past flames become more pronounced, and you might find yourself obsessively checking your retirement savings, filled with anxiety about the future.

But there are perks to this stage of life too, primarily of the “I-don’t-care” variety. You no longer lose sleep over melodramatic friends, you happily decline social invitations, and since you’ve entered that overlooked phase of life where society seems to forget about women, you expect fewer comments on your appearance.

Or so I thought. Hello, I’m Jessica, I’m 50 years old, and I recently experienced body-shaming on Instagram because of my rather large breasts.

My Introduction to Body-Shaming

My introduction to body-shaming occurred last Monday, but before diving into that, let’s clarify a few things. Yes, my breasts are entirely natural. I didn’t ask for them to be this size, and yes, I’m aware of how big they are. I don’t understand why they keep growing, and while weight gain accounts for some of it, it certainly doesn’t explain all of it. I dislike them immensely and have consulted three different surgeons about a reduction (one quoted me 40K, another deemed me too overweight for surgery, and the last one gasped and said, “You need to address this immediately.”)

Nonetheless, I still venture out into the world. I go on dates and wear push-up bras (because minimizing bras make me look like a penguin). I enjoy wearing swimsuits and playing in the ocean, which is why I eagerly took time off work to try stand-up paddle boarding with my old friend Dave, whom I hadn’t seen since junior high. For those keeping track, that’s been 35 years.

It was a fantastic day. I eventually got the hang of standing, and Dave was a patient and amusing instructor. We saw pelicans up close and watched children giggle as they splashed in the water. Afterward, we lay on the beach while Dave shared stories about losing his daughter to cancer six years ago (“She was my adventure buddy”), and I updated him on my own heartbreaks over the years. Sandy, salty, and warm, we then headed for delicious pork belly banh mi sandwiches.

A Perfect Day

A perfect day, indeed. So, when I returned home, I decided to share a picture of myself on the paddleboard on Instagram. I’ve always used Instagram as a digital scrapbook: chronicling new rescue dogs, memorials for old pups, in-progress paintings, hikes, beach days, and time spent with my horse and friends. I have no brand to promote, nor do I support any cause passionately enough to share clever memes. It’s just a photo album for me.

I didn’t even consider that posting this picture would lead to my first experience with body-shaming. My friend Alex later told me I was naive for not expecting it. To me, it was simply a fun day at the beach.

The Comments Begin

The comments started off relatively tame: “Well, you certainly won’t drown!” But quickly escalated. My friend Sarah—whom I thought was a friend—commented, “I’m glad SOMEONE said something,” along with several laughing emojis, as if I was doing something wrong. My friend Lisa—again, someone I thought was a friend—joined in with a bunch of “LMFAO!” and her own comment, “WHY DO THEY KEEP GROWING?” accompanied by more laughing emojis. There were even hashtags, the most popular being #BigBoobProblems.

I attempted to inject some humor into the situation with comments like “Hush,” and eventually, “You know I didn’t ask for this, right?” But it was like throwing a stone into the ocean. They were determined to remind me of my so-called “flaw.”

I cried. Not only was I reminded of something I already dislike about myself, but the comments made me feel like I’d broken some unwritten rule that everyone else knew about except me. I thought I was simply sharing a photo of my day in the sun. Do I realize I look silly? Yes. But did I expect people to take the chance to remind me? No.

Body Positivity and Societal Pressures

With the rise of the body-positivity movement (which I wholeheartedly support), I would have thought that if I posted a picture of a larger body, I might receive encouraging comments. (At least from my friends, who are the exception.) If I had shared a photo in a bikini showcasing scars from a botched surgery—like my friend Mia—I might have received supportive remarks instead.

However, having large breasts seems to remain a taboo. Is it because they are often associated with sexuality and are featured in adult media? Probably. We don’t need to take a Women’s Studies course to understand that. Despite our progress, we still live in a society that has puritanical undertones, at least among my friends on Instagram.

I don’t want to worry about unspoken body standards. I just want to use Instagram to document my life, but I’ve decided I’m done with that. My friend Alex, who warned me about the backlash, suggested I should be “less bold.” The term “bold,” of course, means having the audacity to not hide my body, to not wear long-sleeved, high-necked shirts while paddle boarding.

No thanks. I refuse to spend mental energy determining what is “bold” versus “less bold.” I won’t engage with a system that punishes me for my body.

A New Perspective

A few days later, still feeling emotional, I shared a simple meme on Instagram that said “Pause” over a serene ocean wave, explaining in the comments that Instagram no longer serves my needs. I’ll miss the recipes and the cute dog photos, but I can’t have it both ways.

Then, as I lay in bed feeling inexplicably sad, my new rescue dog—who I had started to regret adopting because of his timid nature—jumped up beside me, curled up, and rested his cheek against mine. He became my dog that day.

I stopped caring that he wouldn’t be the adventurous companion I had envisioned. True friendship means being able to express your feelings and share your body without anyone mocking you. If the only one I can find that with is a dog without an Instagram account, so be it.

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Summary

At 50, Jessica faces unexpected body-shaming on Instagram after posting a paddle boarding photo. Despite embracing her body and enjoying life, comments from friends remind her of societal pressures surrounding body image. After a day of fun and heartfelt connections, she reflects on the importance of true friendship and decides to focus on meaningful relationships rather than social media validation.