I’ve been lying to everyone

Staff Writer

Bianca Dye is a breakfast presenter on i98FM in Wollongong and the Illawarra, NSW. She recently wrote this piece for 'The Hoopla'.

I’ve been lying through my teeth.

I’m not proud of it but maybe by being honest I can help other ladies who feel the same way feel better about themselves. So here goes…


I do NOT feel “sexy” in my body even though I always say that I do – no matter how I look.

Ok, there I said it. I know, I know, I’m meant to be a Hooplarian – we the race of women that do not need to look like Miley Cyrus to feel sexy. But I’m here to tell you that I feel I may in fact be speaking on behalf of quite a few women when I say that is BULLSHIT.

I have put on weight (12 kg to be exact) due to medication I was prescribed for my generalised anxiety disorder (and before you point your perfectly manicured finger and call me crazy, I hate to tell you but one in four people go undiagnosed with this, so look around you, sunshine – you or someone you know and love has this too).

Anyway, I was always the girl that “felt comfy in her skin”. I’m a “role model” apparently (well that’s what it says when I google myself) when it comes to body image.

But I had a real wake-up call and moment of shitty clarity as I sat in a cafe the other day.

Has this happened to you lately? I’m there with my best friend when some hot 20-something in tiiiiiiiny little denim hot pants leans over me to grab a magazine. I had that moment – as most women do – when I thought I can smile and pretend that her tiny toned hot little SKINNY arse doesn’t make me feel shit about myself right now.

Or I can be really, really honest and say, YES IT DOES!!!

Besides wanting to grab her by her hair extensions and say “PUT SOME CLOTHES ON, IT’S A CAFE NOT THE BIG DAY OUT” I had this moment where I thought, when did I become one of those bitchy jealous women that thinks stuff like that.

I was always an “each to their own” kinda gal, but she has gone and in her place is an almost 40-year-old, used-to-be skinny gal that points her hypocritical finger at young women and their teensy weensy outfits and wants them to GO AWAY.

But why should they? They’re young and lovely and hot and skinny and I used to be too.

I was voted FHM magazine’s 53rd most hottest woman in one of their silly magazine comps one year (above) and now here I am sobbing in the change room as I enter Witchery for the fourth time this week asking for “flowy, baggy LOOOONG tops” to hide my huge arse!

I mean, what happened? Where is my feminist side that says “hey, I feel sexy – I’m turning 39 in three weeks and I’m like so comfy in my own skin and it’s what’s inside that counts”.

I’m here to say, I’m NOT. I’m here to say there are a lot of us who don’t like the fact we have  chunked up later in life and I’m here to say that we feel shithouse when we look at these (insert young age here) little “hotties”.

I’m trying to understand why. Is it because we feel we are in limbo? We’re no longer those little hotties but our hot years are by no means over either.

There’s always the gym. Lite n Easy. The lemon liver cleanse grapefruit green pea soup smoothie diet. And then there’s living. I’m ranting I know… because what I really want to be able to say (as I sip my soy latte and nod over a MindFood magazine) is that, yeah, sure I’ve put on weight but, gee, I feel so comfy and happy in my own skin that I don’t care.

But the fact is, I do.

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