LITMIR.BIZ

      STRIP OFF, STAY TRUE

      I recently posted a photo of myself wearing a bikini on Instagram. I’d never done that before and may never do it again, but I was at the beach, the water was beautiful and I was so happy that I wanted to share it. This is the reality of my day, this is the reality of my body (although I sure as hell sucked my gut in for the photo). I’m at that age where people around me start complaining, “Am I getting a bit too wrinkly, am I getting too old, what will people think of me?” I’ve been as insecure about my body as anyone in the past. It’s tough not to be when we live in a culture of comparing, competing and judging, rather than facing our flaws with kindness, compassion – and even admiration.

      One of the reasons I started The Collective was to snap out of this perfectionist mentality. I was sick of seeing airbrushed models in magazines when the reality is so different to the perception, which I’m realising more and more the longer I’m immersed in this industry. I’m not adverse to it either. Look at the photos for this book; I’ve had my hair done, my make-up applied, been dressed by a stylist and made sure the photographer shone a flattering light on me. I don’t wake up like this! But in general, on all occasions, I try to present a true, honest, genuine, fully rounded representation of myself, even though it can feel easier to hide behind a mask of fake stories, exaggeration and empty compliments. Over the years, through much self-exploration and many uncomfortable social situations, I’ve learned that the biggest key to confidence is acceptance. This is me. I am here. What you see is what you get.

      What’s the worst that can happen? When you think about the scenarios that make your stomach twist in knots, what are you really fearful of? Tripping over as you walk through a room full of people? Accidentally offending the host? Having green stuff in your teeth or your dress tucked into your undies? I’ve done them all, and you know what? They’re all pretty funny. The key to overcoming a lack of confidence is not taking yourself too seriously. The reality is that every time I try really hard to look cool, I fail miserably. It takes enough effort to get dressed up, trussed up and go out socialising at the end of a long workweek; I certainly don’t have the energy to pretend to be someone else. And why would anyone want to?

      If you think you’re too old, too clumsy, too boring, too geeky, too loud, too quiet or too ordinary, then just think about all the people whose lives were cut short young, all the people missing from the family gathering, those whose names will never be on the party list, who were denied the privilege of this new experience. If I ever have a moment of self-doubt, I find this sobering thought snaps me back into reality. I can have the courage to say hello. Because it’s sure as hell better than saying goodbye.