So you’re born, right? And not 30 minutes after you take that first breath of fresh air and monster piss you’ve been holding in for 9 months, you get this warm, round thing shoved in your face that is full of food and is tailor made for someone your current size and shape to be able to use without any instruction.
For the next year, all you need to do is yell out, and these perfect globes of engineering appear to appease you. Quite literally EVERYTHING you need to survive is provided by 2 godlike melons that are at your beck and call. Suddenly, and quite arbitrarily, the greatest thing in the world is taken away. It becomes “uncouth” to cry and reach for breasts at the mall.
From 3 until whenever-you-find-a-girlfriend, the world is full of your favorite things, heaving up and down like schooner rounding Cape Horn, and you are 100% powerless to do anything about it. Worse still, around 10, still YEARS away from touching one yourself, you aren’t even allowed to look at the jiggly goodness without fear of getting labeled a pervert.
This is why men don’t cry and are emotionally distant. Having the only thing you want taken away, hidden, then brought back into your life with hundreds of rules and social mores governing your behavior around them is maddening.
tl;dr More boobs, less psychological damage.