04/03/2014 09:01 GMT | Updated 04/05/2014 06:59 BST

A Open Letter to CoppaFeel

Dear CoppaFeel,

I'm a 27-year-old woman. You want to speak to me and you have.

I saw your page and feel it is important to tell you what you've said to me about breast cancer.

1) You don't care.

2) We're a charity hiding behind the message of checking your breasts.

3) The truth is we want to be a 'famous charity' and get on the telly and have our name splashed everywhere. Doesn't it look nice in Pink?

4) We want you to check your boobs BUT we won't waste our time telling you how to do it.

5) But we will show you a lovely pair (cause that will aparently prevent cancer).

6) We'll compare checking for cancer (something that can kill, and even result in you loosing both breast) to your weight because we know you're more obsessed with that.

7) We'll tell you some 'scary stats and figures' but we won't touch on the emotional and physical trauma experienced by those with breast cancer or how to prevent it.

8) AND we won't show you what a lifesaving breast check should look like.

9) Forget about what to look for or how to do it.

10) Forget about the different shapes and sizes boobs come in, because a 34 DD is pretty standard for page 3 and after all we don't actually want to show you anything informative.

11) NOW here is the fun bit: We'd like you to grab your breasts like a pair of melons and take a photo of them for Instagram.

12) Use the hash-tag we've created (because again that is how you will discover a lump)

13) Don't talk to your friends about texture, shape, nobbles and bobbles get RT-ing and liking your posts.

14) Cause Insta likes saves lives.

15) And last but by no means least it was really important to talk to you through page 3. Because we are so in tune with women aged 18-30 and we know that is the place to find you.

So CoppaFeel.......... I'm sitting in my room, boobs out staring in the mirror with your doubble page open wide.

I want to check for breast cancer, a disease that could see me loose the boobs staring back at me or worse kill me.

I'm tilting my head to the side, cheeky grin on my face, and I've got one hand on my head in that sexy come to bed way page three likes.

The other hand is loosely hovering over my upper my boob and I'm making sure I'm flashing the nipple.

I'm staring back at myself, waiting, but what the fuck I do next?


P.s Please write back I and 1000 of other women would like to know how to prevent cancer.