Becoming Enough (Even on a Website Full of Goddesses)

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Some days, logging onto this platform as a plus size, imperfect, 31-year-old mum feels like walking into a room where every woman looks like she was carved from moonlight, fairy dust and witchcraft.

As a pansexual woman it's both a blessing and a curse, because while I'm drooling away at all of you in amazement, there's a niggling voice in the back of my head...

And then there’s me.
In my hoodie.
On my couch.
With my stretchmarks, and wobbly bits, and imperfect face and all the things I dislike about myself.
Wondering if the front camera is out to personally destroy my self-esteem.

It’s hard not to compare yourself when you’re surrounded by women who look like they were born directly from Aphrodite, knowing exactly how to pose, and showing off that every angle is their best angle. Meanwhile, I’m over here trying to figure out which side of my face even counts as “my good side.” (Spoiler... I still don’t know.)

Being on a spicy platform doesn’t magically make your insecurities disappear. If anything, it puts them under a ring light.

I used to think I had to look a certain way to be considered desirable here. That I had to match some unknown polished, perfect, effortless aesthetic. That if I didn’t look like her, or her, or her then no one would look at me.

But the longer I’m here, the more I’m learning something really important.

I don’t have to look like anyone else to belong here.
I only have to look like me.

I know I’m not everyone’s type. But neither are 3 day worn socks, and there's plenty of buyers who want those. (Did I just compare myself to 3 day worn socks?)

Some people want flawless, petite, gym bodies with blonde hair and blue eyes and lips for days.
Some people want natural, soft, imperfect, wiggly jiggly bits.
Some people want a mischievous smile, or a nerdy vibe, or a little chaos, or a whole lot of personality.
Some people want a woman who laughs at her own jokes and occasionally trips over nothing, with great tits and an ass that wobbles on the way down.

There is a lane for all of us.

Confidence isn’t something you wait to feel. It’s something you practice, even on the days you feel like a potato.

I’m practicing showing up anyway.
I’m practicing taking pictures even when I’m convinced my hair is in open rebellion.
I’m practicing not deleting every photo that isn’t magazine-cover perfect.
I’m practicing believing that my version of attractiveness is allowed to exist on the internet too.

Some days I still struggle. Some days I look at the goddesses on my feed and feel like a pair of holey comfy pants in a drawer full of satin and lace lingerie. But those comfy pants still get worn. They still get loved. And sometimes they’re someone’s favourite.

So here’s to all the imperfectly perfect people trying their best:

To the ones who show up nervous but show up anyway.
To the ones who take twenty photos and keep one.
To the ones who don’t feel like the “standard” but are still learning to celebrate the features they don’t always understand people like.
To the ones who are discovering that desire is not a competition.

And if you’ve ever looked at yourself and wondered if you’re enough? You are.

Exactly as you are. And bringing a kind of beauty that only exists once. Yours.

Want to see the parts of me I’m still learning to love? Stick around, send me a message. I’ve got a feeling the best of me is just starting to show up.

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