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It is that time of the year again. Trying to be as comfy as possible, I wrapped myself in my blanket having a Ben and Jerry’s chocolate fudge brownie ice cream tub next to me. I had been quite generous with myself already; her three large tablespoons of that velvety smooth ice cream by the time the show started. With a drooling mouth I observed each and every one of the models walking down the Victoria Secret catwalk.

As every perfectly shaped bony model waved me a screen kiss with pouting lips, I would lower my eyes to take a look at my belly. So what if I have a belly then? Does this make me less of a woman? I don’t think so mate. Yes, I am bit curvy – not fat. Don’t you ever dare to call me fat; I might punch you in the face. I will never be a size 10 and never do I intend to be.

Guess what else – I have cellulite on my thighs, stretch marks on my ass and a gap between my two front teeth. Should all these threaten me or even have me feeling inferior to other women? No, they shouldn’t; and they don’t. This is who I am and this is who I will be for the rest of my life. So if you have any problem with any of these previously mentioned bodily characteristics of mine, you better fucking deal with it. Apparently it is your problem and not mine to solve, for I accepted the way I am a long time ago.

In order for me to stand tall and act bitchy today, I came a long way. I had been bullied about my weight, I had been pointed out for not having straight teeth and I had been secretly gossiped about for being different. As a child, I would simply not allow such behaviours to let me down and to fix my mind on how I should change as to look like the rest of the crowd. Today, I am thankful to my childhood version for not being affected to any of those nasty comments as it is my peculiarities that make me unique and not the fact that I am just another person lost in the crowd. I suppose I had always been a heartless bitch, what can I say? Because when you are born with sass, you can’t really help it but to not give a single fuck about what others say or think about you.

My flaws had turned out to be my power, my greatest prerogatives, my unbeatable stamina. Once I altered my flaws to my advantage, no one has been really brave of actually using them against me since then. They know that their words can’t hurt, they are aware that going up against me will serve them no good.

A firm believer of hate at first sight, I will have you demolished in seconds. I eat stupid chicks like you for breakfast in a bowl mixed with my non dietetic cornflakes. A writer, a linguist and a bitch, I am quite skilled in manipulating minds and mingling words. Words that can have you sobbing by the floor in a single sentence I shall utter. If you haven’t been told yet, this is a city full of bitches and I’m their queen.

Now don’t rush to judge me again; to me a bitch is someone who’s possessed by class and sass all mingled up in a champagne glass. I am talking about the type of woman that dresses to kill, the one that lights fire with her gaze, the one who you insecure bimbettes are afraid of.

Women like these are rare nowadays and thus when you find one you ought to be careful with her. She does not need reassurance from you when it comes to her appearance; she already knows she is a killer. She does not care if you don’t approve of the sexy pictures she posts on social media. She looks damn fine and if she feels like it, she would spam your timeline with another ten of them cause she’s a fucking doll. Have you noticed of the fire burning in her eyes? It’s her most stable trait of all – her confidence.

The confidence she owns towards herself and of what she is capable of. You know – true confidence comes within. Nor does it desperately shout for attention nor does it call for reassurance, it just stands there proudly and sassily. As proudly and sassily she would enter a place with people staring at her. As if a spark of light constantly follows her, she makes an entrance whenever she goes. She could be wearing the cheapest perfume and the simplest clothes and she would still attract everyone’s attention. Simplicity equals more and that’s the rule she lives by.

She is effortlessly sexy; not in particular in the way she looks but rather in the way she walks and in the way that she arches her eyebrows. To men she is a challenge and to women she is a threat. A challenge as she does not need a man to provide her security and a threat as she unintentionally steals men’s hearts.

To all women out there reading this and not really relating to my sayings, my advice is just to try and love yourself a bit more. Accept her with her flaws and all. We are all equally beautiful no matter cloth size or skin colour. Love yourself, she is the only one you have got indeed. Look yourself in your mirror. Tell her how much you love her, tell her that she is fierce, wonderfully built and most of all flawless.

Walk that corridor outside your bedroom as if it’s a damned Victoria Secret catwalk, while Pretty Woman is being played in the background. You owe it to yourself after all – to be in the spotlight at least once.

Author: Marianna Ioannou

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