A few days ago, I posted a reel— nothing unusual or too taboo for Instagram, just a rather chill montage of me wearing and promoting a fabulous brand’s underwear range. The thing is, this reel triggered some potent anxiety in the lead up to the posting date, and a few days after it went live. I had mentioned this on my story.

As a result of this story post, I received an influx of very lovely and supportive messages — reassurance that I looked great and had nothing to be ashamed of. However, looking “great” isn’t what triggered the anxiety; I am comfortable in my skin and work (reasonably) hard to stay fit and healthy. I take pride in myself and my appearance. But, what I am anxious about, is being sexualised. Terrified, even.

Sexualisation is sadly a common occurrence in our society, especially on social media — and the worst part? It usually happens without our (women’s) consent. From adverts to films, music videos, and social media, women are so frequently objectified and reduced to sexual objects, thus creating unrealistic beauty standards, reinforcing gender stereotypes, and even perpetuating misogynistic ideologies that we as women are only worth the clothes we do or don’t wear.

From the ages of eighteen to twenty-three, I was sexually liberated — I was confident in my sexuality, embraced my sexual desires, and didn’t shy away from romance. Sadly, after three sexual assaults, and being disgustingly over-sexualised by previous partners, I closed myself off. I began avoiding any situation or posting content that may attract unwanted sexual comments from men. I stayed clear of intimacy and affection, ex-partners’ touch felt like cockroaches crawling over my skin. I was so frightened of being sexualised because, for me, it had always lead to unwanted attention, sexual harassment, and assault. I felt dirty and reduced to nothing but my physical appearance — especially being a woman online with an alternative appearance, which I have written about before in a previous post: Let’s Stop Fetishising Alt Women.

So you may be wondering, if I am so frightened of posting “revealing” content, then why do I on occasion? Well first of all, Instagram is part of my income – and the brands I work with deserve all the support in the world. But more importantly, I want to reclaim my body, even if it’s scary.

I thought I could achieve this by shying away from it all — cover up and avoid any sexually driven conversations. A prude. I was so desperate to avoid those feelings of objectification and shame I felt after the last assault — I never wanted to feel like that again. But by doing so, I fell victim to society’s harmful ideology that a women’s worth equates to how much clothing she wears. I am so much more than my body, my tattoos, my hair, and my style. And me dancing around in my underwear or in a bikini doesn’t minimise my accomplishments and self-worth.

And anyone who does want to take a pop at my body, call me a slag, or tell me I’m seeking attention and validation. Well, there’s a block button for a reason. We need to challenge the idea that our worth is based on our physical appearance and work towards creating a society where we are valued for who we are as individuals, not just our bodies, regardless of how we choose to dress and present ourselves.

So here I am, unpacking my fear of sexualisation. Reclaiming my body and the old me. Because I refuse to feel subdued and held back by those who caused me so much grief and made me doubt my power and potential.