Plump and parted lips purring a whispered moan.

Large soft breasts with nipples hard with wanting.

A warm and moist pussy yearning to be satisfied…

Is this what you want to hear? Are you turned on right now? Is there a bulge growing in your trousers?


To you my body is nothing more than an object to be desired and sexualised:

A blank canvas to project your erotic fantasies onto.

The star of your own personal porn film.

The fleshy fodder to your midnight masturbation.


And I’m sick of it.

I’m sick of always having to shield my body against your constant mental undressing.

Having to wrestle it away from your grubby hands on a crowded dance floor.

Having to heal it after your sexist words lash like the strike of lightening against my skin.


I want to reclaim my body back: away from the patriarchy, away from the male gaze and most importantly, away from the fear that my body could be vulnerable to a man’s lust…

I just want my body back. Why? Because it’s my body; nothing more and nothing less. It is mine and mine alone.

I’m not just a short skirt and a pretty smile, there is more to me than your narrow view could ever begin to see.


My body isn’t just for sex, I can use it for many, many things:

Like crawling through trenches and pulling a trigger to defend my country.

Building stamina to push me through the last mile of a marathon.

Being strong and resilient enough to bring a new born baby into this world.

But, above all else my body is the dependable vessel I use to carry my incredible mind.


I’m not as superficial or overly obsessed with diamond rings and pink frilly things as you might think.

Beneath the only things you see; the makeup and long flowing hair, my head is home to a richer and more complex world than you could ever imagine.

Like Socrates and the School of Athens, I’m constantly thinking about the wider world and my place in it or like Wes Anderson looking through a camera lens, I’m always seeing life as a spectrum of beautiful colours.


I think more about politics, the environment and the possibility of life elsewhere in the universe than I do about fashion.

I think more about my career, the works of Hemingway and raising a family more than I do about celebrities.

So when you look at me don’t just see the breast, arse and thighs – see my big, beautiful, amazing mind instead.



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