How confronting my insecurities led to self acceptance

Having a photoshoot can seem really self indulgent at first, but when you find the right photographer it can be one of the most therapeutic experiences you can have.

There are thousands of photographers out there- even in Bishop’s Stortford alone. We all work within different genres but I’m the only photographer that works solely with women and I believe that’s because I lead with empathy and a genuine want to help you see yourself whether you love what you see in the mirror, or there are issues that you focus on and struggle to accept.

I know what it’s like to focus on a body part and truly struggle to love it. So today I wanted to tell you my story which starts back in my teenage years. A story which has seen me overcome a hatred for my body and has helped me accept and no longer focus on my body image in the way I had previously.

As you read it I want you to think about how reframing your mindset could lead you to that freedom you don’t currently think is possible.

I went to the extreme really to help me overcome my issues, you certainly don’t need to go to that extent (read on and you’ll understand what I mean). But the lesson I learnt ultimately was that by being able to see myself through other people’s eyes it gave me the permission I needed to stop that internal battle.

My story focuses on my breasts.

So this story is always going to be intermingled with sexuality simply because of the nature of the area I struggled with and the era in which I grew up where there was a heavy emphasis on sexualising the female body- not something that the today me would encourage unless it is a personal requirement for you to deal with those emotions. And actually even going through it for me, the process was never sexual it was always about acceptance.

In my late teenage years my chest had a growth spurt. I went from being a B cup which I was quite happy with as I was a typical tom boy kind of girl that loved sports, to suddenly developing G cup breasts overnight- or at least it seemed that way.

The reality was I just didn’t notice until people started pointing out to me that I had “massive breasts”. I liked being the non descript girl at school. Attention made me uncomfortable so you can imagine how I felt when suddenly I was getting attention because of the size of my boobs.

At the time I was living abroad. My dad had a job that took our family to Singapore, so to have this sudden growth spurt in a country where actually the women as a population were generally smaller was difficult. It was impossible to find bras that fit me. C cup was the maximum cup size the shops would typically stock. It made my already awkward body feel even more ridiculous. There were no bras for a girl my size. As a teenager I felt so uncomfortable in the body I had. I’d wear bras that were too small and then I’d wear a tight black boob tube on top of my bras which essentially pushed my boobs down- I was basically binding my own breasts. Visually it made my chest look smaller than I was, which gave me the confidence to continue being the old me. The less visual my breasts were, the less comments I’d receive.

My mum knew all about my breast issues, but as an A cup and my sister being a B cup my family didn’t really know best on how to support me as a young teenager. She knew how upsetting my breasts made me feel, so she took me to the doctors to discuss options. Of course the only option really being surgery. The doctor spoke to me at length and told me that surgery wouldn’t be performed on a teenager or really anyone under the mid-20’s, simply because there’s no way of knowing how much growth is still going to happen. And of course the breast tissue is still developing and changing. So I carried on for the next few years in the same way, a boob tube pushing down my natural breast tissue so that they would be less noticeable.

Ultimately my breasts made me feel really embarrassed. They sexualised my body without my permission.

I left Singapore and headed back to the UK to start university. At the time the whole glamour model scene seemed to be kicking off. Daily there were glamour models in the newspapers, the magazines and wherever else you’d come across them at the time. What made them household names? Their breasts. Many chose to actually get surgery to increase their breasts to align themselves with the career choice they had chosen. For me, this was a different way to see my body. I was given these “comedy sized boobs” and women were paying thousands to have their natural breasts doubled or tripled in size and here I was wanting to have mine essentially cut off. These women were choosing to sexualise their bodies with their breasts. It was their choice.

The more I witnessed the rise of the glamour model, the more I started to question my own breasts. It’s funny but it’s true. The more we visually see ourselves in others, the easier it is for us to accept what we deem as flaws.

Instagram and social media currently is definitely paving the way for body acceptance. What was hidden behind closed doors previously is now being shared with positivity. New mother’s are able to see other women with post partum bodies. Stretch marks are being loved. Masectomy scars are being shown and celebrated because they symbolise life… all of these may mean nothing to you. But to someone who struggles with that themselves, it means everything.

And that was how the glamour industry made me feel. It gave me a place where my breasts weren’t seen as ridiculous.

And so while I still had breast reduction surgery as my end goal, I decided to see if I could delve into the glamour industry. For those unaware, the glamour industry is topless modelling. It’s in essence sexualising the body for visual content. But the choice to sexualise my body was my choice. No one else could sexualise my body without my permission now because it felt like the control was mine.

For me, it was never about who was seeing my breasts. It was about seeing how others perceived my breasts in an environment where it seemed the larger the better. It was about being surrounded by other women where I felt normal. It was about all of us getting ourselves ready in the same changing rooms and none of us being shy or afraid to be topless around each other. It was a sisterhood.

Whereas before I felt I had to hide them away, squash them down and pretend they didn’t exist; I was now learning to fully embrace them. I wasn’t made to feel they were out of place for the first time in my life. And I felt in control of my body finally.

I spent 8 years in the glamour industry, I was incredibly successful at what I did. I invested what I earnt into property and when I became pregnant with my son I was able to walk away. The job was never a forever job- it can’t be really when actually it was based so heavily on quite shallow aethetics. But it was exactly what I needed as a young woman. The job had prevented needless surgery, it had given me my confidence back and ultimately I started to learn that we all feel flawed at times and that focus can become so detrimental. I worked with some of the most beautiful women, and yet they were fighting their own self loathing battles which I couldn’t understand. And I realised we are all on that journey and it’s only our own mindsets that can lead to that kind of acceptance otherwise there’s no stopping point. It doesn’t end.

I confronted my breast insecurity head on. The path it took me down set up the foundations for the life we have today as a family and it also led me to discover the power of photography. I spent many years being photographed and I know the power of a great picture. So after having my firstborn when I lost the ability to look “photogenic” in a picture (bearing in mind that was my job for the past 8 years), I then realised that being photogenic is actually a mindset. And after having my son I lost all the confidence I’d gained because my body had changed and I hadn’t accepted those new changes. When you lose confidence it’s a cycle and so I started to confront my own insecurities again.

I can not tell you the power that exists when you confront those uncomfortable feelings. It’s not even learning to love the way you look in an image. It’s about looking at an image and thinking “yeah, she’s actually alright” and accepting exactly who you are and the journey you’ve been on to get there.

Funnily enough my breasts after having my kids took themselves on a shrinking journey and so I’m grateful I didn’t have a breast reduction because I would literally have nothing left at all if I had! 😂 Typical isn’t it. All that energy wasted in my teenage years and my twenties and ultimately I’ll spend longer with the boobs I currently have then the boobs I spent years negatively obsessing over.