Jesus, Jes, I really really like this. If there's anything I can add, it would be that nobody likes how they look in photos - at first. Photographs are the easiest way to take account of all of our physical "flaws" in one go; and those perceived flaws are different in all of us. It may take time, but the more you do it, the more you will come to look at your own body as a work of art.

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Feeling sexy — if we define the word as "sexually attractive" to both ourselves and others — isn't always simple. When you're trying to feel sexy as a plus size woman or femme, for example, you can't usually go a day without seeing an advertisement for "how to lose the bum flab now" followed by a before and after picture. In such an image, the "before" human often appears sad and disheveled. The "after" rocks an ear-to-ear smile, and can fit into all the latest styles. She, we are meant to believe, is the core definition of sexy.
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The Frisky -- Dear Wendy: A few days ago I was walking past a girl and she just seemed so incredibly sexy and beautiful and I'm actually WAYYY smaller than her, but just, something about her seemed so attractive! This has happened to me a few times. I'm not incredibly fat, but I've got a belly and arms, and even though these girls were actually fat-fat, they just seemed so much more hotter than me and guys were actually hitting on them and stuff. How the heck did they manage that? Dear Unfabulous : Well, first of all, there are plenty of people -- men and women -- who are attracted to a little extra meat on the bones. Big can certainly be beautiful and the women you've seen walking down the street owning their curves know it! Not only that, but I'm willing to bet they were oozing something that comes in all sizes: confidence. Confidence is super hot and sexy and if you've got, it doesn't matter how big your hips are, you're going to attract positive attention. So, how do you get confidence?
Towards the end of the trip, I watched her grow darker and angrier. After a couple of days of passive-aggressive attacks, I finally mustered up the courage to ask her what was wrong. A year later, after a terrible breakup and a short recovery period, I met another woman. She was a beautiful, friendly, funny professional soccer player. She lavished me with attention when we were alone, constantly told me how beautiful I was, and compared me to Adele every chance she got.