Let’s get one thing straight ... you ain’t no supermodel.
In comparison with the average woman you probably come, well, average. I doubt your face is totally symmetrical or that you are totally cellulite free. You could have one boob bigger than the other and a slightly wider jaw than is deemed delicate on a lady. Big feet, dimply arms, thin hair, a glass eye; my guess is you have at least one of the above. My guess is also that, like the majority of women in the western world, you start most years with the best intentions and plan big things after each birthday.
Those realistic goals like loosing 3 stone in 2 months, waking up at 4am every weekday to run 10 miles around the park or totally changing your whole physical appearance thereby becoming completely unrecognisable from the flabby mess you are now.
This is, after all, the way to get regular sex with someone you love and respect is it not?
I speak from first hand experience. I, too, am guilty of falling victim to the visionary promise of body beautiful on an annual basis. Unsurprisingly, however, my determination to eat nothing but celery and raw tuna meat for six months disappears as soon as my post New Year hangover does, and, let’s be honest anyway, having sex with someone I love and respect, least of all regularly, is just plain ridiculous.
Extreme weight lose, 4am starts and perfect men are mythical dreams.
Might I suggest then, that we start on our journey of self discovery by setting slightly more realistic targets for ourselves, more achievable goals, so to speak. Such as ending world debt or finding the solution for global poverty.
Look in the mirror.
Take all your clothes of and look in the mirror ... that’s it, lights on.
Now bend over and start singing your favourite Julie Andrews track. (Ok, don’t do that.)
What do you see? The good, the bad or the ugly? My guess is it’s average to bad. But I could be wrong, in which case you’re full of body confidence, totally love yourself (Which, by the way, is a good thing.) and I have no use for you here.
If however you don’t see ‘perfect’, I have good news. People couldn’t give a crap’s ass about that extra half a stone you put on over Christmas or the birth mark on your thigh. In fact, I think it is probably safe to say that, when naked in front of a man,the only thing he does see is a naked woman who is about to have sex with him. This is great news as it means that, despite years of panicking about your muffin top, you are actually highly fuckable and likely to be the main subject of his schoolboy fantasies for some time.
Show me a man that says no to a blow job because of a stretch mark and I’ll show you someone who’s either harbouring a secret about impotence or a large collection of Dolly Parton records.
In other words ... you are as flawless as you choose to be, it's just about not giving a crap's ass either.
And there’s more good news.
Being sexy isn’t about looking perfect it’s about thinking sexy.
When push comes to shove, men want to shag you not measure your waist. Might I suggest you spend less time worrying about the size of your arse and more time researching how to give good blow jobs. A skill far more conducive to happy living than mastering the art of surviving on 3 sticks of celery and a handful of Haribo starmix a day.
Failing that you could spend your life in the gym and refuse to have sex with the lights on ... now there’s a sexy thought.