I feel your pain ladies, and I sense a mob uprising against my initial thesis.
Just keep in mind the other side of it too. One of your own gender (who is speaking from the flat-chested side) has spoken in favor of the thesis (with a strong-worded final sentence, especially)
from Nora Ephron: “A Few Words about Breasts.” Crazy Salad. 1975:
I am nonetheless obsessed by breasts. I cannot help it. I grew up in the terrible Fifties -- with rigid stereotypical sex roles, the insistence that men be men and dress like men and women be women and dress like women, the intolerance of androgyny -- and I cannot shake it, cannot shake my feelings of inadequacy. Well, that time is gone, right? All those exaggerated examples of breast worship are gone, is gone, right? Those women were freaks, right? I know all that. And yet, here I am, stuck with the psychological remains of it all, stuck with my own peculiar version of breast worship. You probably think I am crazy to go on like this: Here I have set out to write confession that is meant to hit you with the shock of recognition and instead you are sitting there thinking I am thoroughly warped. Well, what can I tell you? If I had had them, I would have been a completely different person. I honestly believe that.
After I went into therapy, a process that made it possible for me to tell total strangers at cocktail parties that breasts were the hang-up of my life, I was often told that I was insane to have been bothered by my condition. I was also frequently told, by close friends, that I was extremely boring on the subject. And my girlfriends, the ones with nice big breasts, would go on endlessly about how their lives have been far more miserable than mine. Their bra strips were snapped in class. They couldn't **82** on their stomachs. They were stared at whenever the word "mountain" cropped up in geography. They had a terrible time of it, they assure me. I don't know how lucky I was, they say.
I have thought about their remarks, tried to put myself in their place, considered their point of view. I think they are full of shit.