Would I take a magic pill that would see me wake up a size 10? No way! Being plus size is part of who I am and this is precisely why, after a lot of consideration, I said no when I was approached by producers on Instagram and asked to appear on Love Island this year.

There are massive pros and cons to going on that show. Yes, seeing someone with my body type on there could send a good message to girls who hide away because of their size, and it’s true that the public are screaming for more diversity on television. But I would have had no control over how they portrayed me.

Everything I’ve built up as an advocate for body positivity might have been misinterpreted. Would it all have been about my body? And would they have put me in a position where I would have to justify my size?

Although I’ve watched Love Island in the past, I’ve chosen not to this year. Reality shows like this can be dangerous, because they reinforce the idea that you need to look a certain way for people to love you.

In the show, you’re watching a guy dump a girl because a new hot model just came around the corner, which is savage. Give me dad bods and men who don’t care about working out. Show me interesting, multi-faceted women. Give me everything in all shapes, sizes and races. I want to see people – real people – on screen.

I’ve never considered going on a diet. I hit puberty at 13 and developed super-quickly – I’m curvy and have Spanish and Turkish heritage, so big hips are genetically a part of the way I look.

I’m 5ft 9in, about 14st (although I haven’t owned a set of scales since I left home at 23) and have always been a size 14-16. I was never a “girlie girl”, so I wasn’t focused on my appearance. Having this attitude has helped me avoid buying into the narrative that a woman has to be quiet and sit properly.

Growing up in Ladbroke Grove, west London, I went to an inner-city school where I quickly learned to have my own back and know my worth, and that’s a great life skill.

I also did lots of sport and extra-curricular activities, such as swimming and playing the violin, and having those structures in place allowed me to develop a healthy relationship with myself.

After completing my masters in child psychotherapy in 2011 and working with young people who had body dysmorphia and eating disorders, I started posting pictures of myself on Instagram. I could see that the lack of representation in the media contributed to girls’ low self-esteem, so I began to speak out.

One of my images was picked up and I became the face of the first ever plus-size show during London Fashion Week in 2014. From there, I was scouted as a model and went on to work for brands such as L’Oréal, ASOS and Speedo. Modelling wasn’t something I’d ever thought about.

It felt a bit self-indulgent, so I decided to use it as a platform to talk about body positivity through brands, campaigns and social media. I now have over 240k followers on Instagram and have built a career from it.

I want girls to see themselves represented in the images I post of myself, and hopefully feel empowered by them. I’d love to get to a place where women’s bodies aren’t even discussed any more.

If women of all sizes are represented, then they might not feel as though they should stay at home with the curtains shut. People like us do exist and we love our lives.

I’m happily single at the moment after two long-term relationships, but there’s space in my life for the right person. There’s something nice about being single in your late 20s and early 30s, because you really get to know yourself. It’s easy to fill a void of unhappiness with someone else’s reassurances, but knowing how to be your own best friend is vital.

When some people say being plus size is just as unhealthy as anorexia, I can agree to a point, because there are obviously extreme ends of the spectrum. But there are a lot of plus-size women who are perfectly fit and healthy. The assumption that being fat means you’re lazy and don’t care about yourself is not true.

Last year, for example, I ran the London Marathon – in my underwear! For me, it was all about showing how fitness is more than one body type. And what better way to do that than by running through the streets of London half-naked?

Your body can bear children, run marathons, keep you alive and get you out of the house when you’re in the depths of depression. It’s not there to be objectified and it doesn’t exist for the male gaze.

Recently, a man on Instagram told me that if my waist was smaller, I’d be the hottest girl on there. I replied saying that was the most ridiculous comment I’d received all year and he apologised. I have no inclination to be the “hottest girl” in any space – that’s not an achievement or a measurement of success.

I also don’t care about having a body with a waist the size of my finger. It’s weird how society’s body ideal went from heroin chic to over-sexualised femininity, and some women are even asking surgeons to copy the bodies they see on Love Island.

Of course, people watching it at home might be thinking: “If I want to find love, I need to be hotter.” And that’s just not true.

It’s so important to show our cellulite and stretch marks. We’ve been seeing these pictures where skin doesn’t even look like skin any more. We’re losing the sense of what is real and so when we’re confronted with reality, we’re shocked by it.

I love walking around in a bikini. I’ve got cellulite all over my bum, but I’ve got bigger things to worry about than that, such as my work and having a good relationship with myself and the people I love around me.

Like everyone, I have days when I don’t feel happy with how I look. It’s easy to default to: “I’m fat and I don’t feel good right now so it must be because of my body.”

But I always ask myself: “What have I done over the past week that could be contributing to how I’m feeling?” It could just be that I’m over-worked or have stuff going on with my family.

It’s hard to love yourself if you wake up every day despising what you see in the mirror, but to make a change you must be kinder to yourself. If you can own the space you’re in and not compare yourself to others, you will learn to protect and look after yourself. I love my size – I feel sexy. I step into the room and have presence and that, to me, is a powerful thing.

• Follow Jada on Instagram @Jadasezer and catch her podcast Unsubscribe.

Source: Read Full Article