In China, “vestie” is the name we have for teenager bras. There is no complicated reason for changing the name, simply because people are too shy to say it out.

I still remember the swelling pain and panic as my body began to develop, along with my very first bra—thick, tight, and something my mother insisted I wear to hide the 'signs' of my growth, especially those two 'little dark spots.' When summer arrived, the bra became a sweaty nightmare. Some of my friends felt self-conscious because they wore bras; others felt self-conscious because they didn’t. Girls naturally divided themselves into two camps—'bra' or 'no bra'—unable to understand one another, cutting off connections in the process. Looking back, it makes sense: no one taught us how to navigate the confusion of growing up. Growing up isolated each of us in our own way.

I believe growing up is a good thing. As an adult, I now choose not to wear a bra; adulthood has given me the freedom to decide. But growing up was also painful, and I no longer try to beautify the physical and emotional changes I went through.

Stories about women are never told enough. As a female filmmaker, I hope that this story, written for both young girls and those who have already grown up, will add strength to the voices that speak to women’s experiences.