Body image is funny.
Not "ha ha" funny.
The kind of funny that quietly sneaks into your thoughts without you even noticing. It whispers things you'd never dream of saying to another woman, yet somehow convinces you they're true about yourself.
A few months ago, I organised our Frankly You photoshoot.
In every photoshoot we've done before, I've always ended up in front of the camera in some capacity. This time, though, I was adamant that I needed to stay behind the lens.
I told myself it was because I wanted to capture the magic.
To direct the shoot.
To make sure every little detail was perfect.
And while there was definitely some truth in that...
I think if I'm being completely honest, there was another reason.
Deep down, I was avoiding taking my clothes off in front of the camera.
I didn't want to stand there in my underwear.
Not because I believe women shouldn't.
Not because I thought anyone else would judge me.
Because I was judging myself.
Then photoshoot day arrived.
Eight incredible women walked through the door.
Different ages.
Different sizes.
Different shapes.
Different life experiences.
Some had given birth.
Some hadn't.
Some had scars.
Some had stretch marks.
Some had curves.
Some were petite.
Every single one of them was completely different.
And every single one of them was absolutely beautiful.
The funny thing is... I barely thought about any of that on the day.
I was too busy laughing with everyone, adjusting lighting, fixing hair, capturing moments and creating something really special.
It wasn't until I sat down afterwards to edit the photos that something hit me.
There was... nothing to fix.
I wasn't smoothing skin.
I wasn't changing body shapes.
I wasn't trying to hide stretch marks.
I wasn't wishing someone looked different.
Because they already looked perfect.
Not "perfect" because they fit some impossible beauty standard.
Perfect because they looked like real women.
Confident women.
Strong women.
Women who had lived.
Women who trusted us enough to stand in front of a camera wearing nothing but leakproof underwear.
As I scrolled through hundreds of photos, I realised something uncomfortable.
Why could I see perfection in every single one of these women...
...but struggle to see it in myself?
Why is it so easy to celebrate another woman's body while criticising our own?
Why do we zoom in on our stomach, our thighs, our arms, our stretch marks, our scars, while everyone else simply sees us?
It's something so many of us do.
We're our own harshest critics.
At Frankly You, we talk a lot about confidence.
People often assume confidence comes from having the "right" body.
It doesn't.
Confidence comes from letting your body exist without constantly apologising for it.
From wearing clothes that make you feel comfortable.
From laughing without worrying how your stomach looks.
From exercising because you love your body—not because you're trying to punish it.
From wearing leakproof underwear because it gives you freedom, not because you're trying to hide something.
Frankly You has never been about creating a "perfect body."
It's about supporting the body you already have.
The body that carries you through long work days.
The body that runs after children.
The body that gets you through your period.
The body that leaks when you laugh.
The body that's changed through pregnancy, menopause, illness, sport or simply getting older.
That body deserves comfort.
That body deserves kindness.
That body deserves confidence.
The biggest lesson I took away from that photoshoot wasn't about photography.
It wasn't about marketing.
It wasn't even about creating beautiful content.
It was this:
The things we spend hours criticising about ourselves are often the very things nobody else notices.
And if I could look at eight women and genuinely believe every single one of them was beautiful exactly as they were...
Maybe it's time I started offering myself the same kindness.
Maybe we all should.
Because every body tells a story.
And every body is worthy of being seen.
Exactly as it is.