I don’t feel sexy.
I suppose it’s a common perception that sex bloggers have a wild ol’ time, having lots of sex with lots of people, and I’m bouncing around in my lacy lingerie feeling like the sexiest motherfucker on the planet.
That’s not always my case. In fact, most of the time it’s not my case at all.
I struggle a lot with having a positive body image since I gained weight. I’ve been working damn hard to lose it, for myself and my overall health, and last time I checked, I’m little over two and half kilos off losing a stone (15lbs) which feels incredible.
No diets or magic pills, just good healthy food and exercise. That’s always been what’s worked best for me so far. Once I get to that milestone, it’s two/three more to go and I’ll be back to my healthiest (and most confident for me) weight of around the 11st range, that or there abouts.
But it’s difficult to love myself on the way to getting there. I champion feeling good about yourself and taking care of yourself, but taking my own advice in that department has never been my forte. I love to laugh, and take pride in appreciating the little things in life that really make a huge difference, but it’s difficult to practice self-love. Especially so in a world that tells me I won’t get far in life unless I’m deemed fuckable by society.
I’m exercising, I’m eating healthier than ever and taking the best care of myself I can right now, and I’m glad I’m making these positive changes for myself. I don’t like being like this so I’m changing it. I’m doing it for me, not for anyone else or just so some random person walking down the street might or might not think, ‘Yeah, I’d fuck her.’
I don’t obsess over numbers on a scale like I used to, but it’s giving me a reference point of how far I am on the road back to normal. Hormonal contraception side effects, not moving around as much as I used to, and stints of anxious overeating all contributed to me making these changes.
Being a sex blogger, you must be the pinnacle of sexual confidence, surely!
Nope. I’m not. I have a high sex drive yes, but that doesn’t mean I feel sexy. The last time I felt properly, wholly sexy was a LONG time ago, at 23, before the anxiety-induced breakdown and the physical effects that came with it.
My boyfriend tells me I’m beautiful, and it helps. The words make me feel warm and fuzzy and give me slither of hope. If he says it, it must be true, right? But I don’t feel it. Not really.
It sucks not wanting my picture taken, or even looking at myself in the mirror. It upsets me, thinking it was my own stupid fault and had I just not gone back on that pill when I did or kept the anxiety better under control I wouldn’t have ended up like that in the first place. To provide some context, I look particularly curvy but feel like a un-feminine, genderless blob.
Societal beauty standards aside here, it’s not me and just not good for my body. It’s difficult trying to explain to people who ask questions that no, I don’t just sit on my arse and eat crap, that I do anything but. Synthetic hormones were a bitch to me and when life dealt a hard blow, anxiety kicked me while I was down.
I’m not saying this for sympathy or to fish for compliments. I’m not a charity case to pity because she’s having an ‘I feel like shit’ moment.
Gradually I’m seeing the shell come away and my real self come out again. Gradually, I’m beginning to feel more positive about my exterior. Slowly but surely, the genderless blob is disintegrating through good self-care. Seeing the fruits of labour is helping my physical and mental wellbeing exponentially. It’s the not-beating-myself-up that I struggle with.
Do I feel sexy right now? Not really. But I’m working on it.