Seeing as I’ve just bared all on national television tonight I suppose I should put my point out there to clear up all the questions, queries and no doubt raised-brows as to why on earth a 28yr old single mother of two would want to show her squishy bits on a dating show. Oh God I’ve just realised I’m writing in third-person, somebody slap me with a bible please!
ADULT CONTENT WARNING: JAM JARS AND BEEF SANDWICHES! NSFW!
Well at the start of 2016 I had a random message from a person pop into my twitter DM’s one day saying they loved my social media and asking if I’d like to take part in a brand new TV show about body confidence and attraction and I thought it sounded pretty interesting. After making sure it wasn’t a scam and the person was a real researcher for a production company I responded with my contact details where I then had a brief chat on the phone before being invited into their London offices for a screen test.
Prior to this they emailed me a list of questions for which I had to give my opinion on literally every single body part and state what I liked about it and disliked. It had crazy things such as ‘earlobes’ for which I said I like little round ones but dislike floppy bacon-like lobes, ‘noses’ can’t be too big or I joust when I kiss because I have a right honker on me, and excess body hair reminds me of my dad who is literally a Hungarian grizzly bear with a happy face. You get the picture!
At my screen test I was asked to look at little flip charts of anonymous people divided into three for their faces, torso and bottom halves. They asked me which part I’d like to see first and being the curious cat that I am I instantly wanted to see the genitals, just because! I’ve never laughed so much or had so much fun in a single hour than answering their questions of “how do you find the leg length, what do you think of the balls and are these nipples too far spaced for you?” And it was eye-opening to realise how strange attraction can be, how we see somebody of the opposite sex and either like or dislike their quirks and kooks. Whether it be scrawny or squishy, lanky or little, well hung or high strung I’ve never had the opportunity to compare body parts and it was both invigorating and uplifting because there was no right or wrong answer, just personal taste.
I’ve been single for three years after my ex-fiance left me when I came out of hospital from a breast reconstruction and I live alone with my two children, cat, dog and rabbit and I love being a mum. To start with I was heartbroken when he said he didn’t want the responsibility of having a family, but I understand that not everybody can handle raising children. We’d been together since I was a teenager and I truly expected to spend my entire life with him, growing old together and walking the dog along the beach with the grandkids racing each other in wheelchairs, but life had different ideas. In hindsight I was too mumsy, too plain Jane, too sensible, hard working and I guess unattractive? I never went out clubbing, never wore a skirt or a dress, had no idea how to do my hair or makeup and felt uneasy with my post-pregnancy body and the stretch marks, scars and cellulite that go along with it. So as my fiancé approached 30 he decided he was too young to stick around and wanted to go out, party and see the world and I’m not one to hold somebody against their will, if you’re no longer happy you can’t fake that so I let him go without a fight and used my pillow as my tear-sponge for a fair few months.
But over these past three years I’ve come to realise that having my heart broken was the best thing for me. You see, I was bullied terribly for being an ugly child, for talking with a lisp, having a strange sounding voice, my dull hair, being lanky, wearing big shoes, not wearing makeup, fumbling and bumbling when I nervously spoke and generally being a teachers pet and class geek. I was an easy target and total doormat, loyal as the day is long and always taken for granted. So when I was plucked from my office job by MTV to become a model at the age of 18 I almost died from the shock but it was a great turning point in my life because it gave me the confidence I so severely lacked.
I went from geek to Barbie-chic literally overnight with sunbeds, false nails, hair extensions, lashings of makeup and daring outfits and suddenly the world threw itself at my feet and people fell over themselves to take me out and take my number. Naturally I was, and am still the same person inside and that will never change because you are who you are; so I didn’t know how to handle compliments, I didn’t know what to do with undivided attention and everybody wanting to please me to earn my approval. I felt like I’d been handed a get-out-of-jail-free card in life purely because of how my appearance had changed. But I didn’t complain, far from it, I was grateful for everything, every opportunity and open door that it created and whilst my own mother didn’t recognise me on the outside I was still her goofy, poetic daughter inside. I’d suffered 17 long years at the hands of the bullies and now they wanted to date me, which obviously I politely declined.
I had my heart broken pretty quickly, a late bloomer in life innocent to the ability of people to cheat, lie and manipulate emotions but you learn the hard way I suppose and each chip at your confidence and trust lost in men just made me that little bit stronger. After passing out during photoshoots I’d begun testing for a brain tumour at the age of 18 at the endocrinology department at my local hospital because my blood test results showed a hormone imbalance stemming from my pituitary gland which is the front section of the brain and left me in floods of tears as well as my parents as they monitored my levels over several months and explained the risks of surgery. Yet within weeks I was back in hospital after another fainting episode when I was kindly informed that I would be ok as would my baby. Err, what baby? I’ve never know every drop of blood I own to hit my feet so quickly. I was almost half way through a pregnancy, hadn’t had a period in years because they’d never become regular and I was frightfully skinny and also taking the contraceptive pill which I was advised would regulate my cycle but didn’t.
After a call to my ex who didn’t want to become a father I had just the cold light of day to realise that in a few months I could give birth to my daughter and be going at parenthood young and alone, and I’ve never looked back. I gave birth a week early seven days before my 20th birthday as we were due to share the same day and she was the single most precious and sweetest thing in my life. In a heartbeat I became selfless, tireless, hunger less and certainly penniless as my every breath over every waking hour was spent on pleasing her, nursing her, studying and working to support us. A couple of months later my now ex-fiance kept coming into my work to chat to me, messaging me on Myspace which was all the rage at the time and asked for my number to chat. I didn’t see him as a potential partner because I only had eyes for my daughter not dating because I’d been treated so badly in the past. Yet after four months and having poured my heart out about stretch marks, heartburn, childbirth and cracked-nipple nursing this guy that I saw as an agony aunt or straight-gay-best-friend suddenly told me he thought the world of me and asked me if I’d go out with him.
You could’ve blown me down with a feather because I didn’t see that coming in a million years, I was so busy being a mum that I forgot I was also a woman. Yet he’d seen my modelling career and me in the news, in magazines and on the radio and felt incredibly proud to have me as his trophy girlfriend, even though I was a new mum and far from glamourous. He always encouraged me to go back to modelling because he knew it paid well and we’d have a good life, but I felt awkward about it what with having had a baby. To start with I felt out of shape, had my body torn to shreds with stretch marks and wanted to finish studying my diploma in interior design and already worked two jobs whilst raising a child alone, there just wasn’t enough hours in the day to try to be glamourous too!
I spent my life in jeans and baggy jumpers, prided myself on dressing my daughter nicely, having bedtime routines down to an art and keeping my home neat and tidy. I set up a children’s educational business writing free learning materials for schools for underprivileged and single parent families to also enjoy free craft, activities and events for themselves and their little ones and my love for helping charities flourished as we visited local food banks where I donated a weeks worth of my wages to them at Christmas and signed up for a charity cycle with my son onboard in a baby seat to help disabled children learn wheelchair sports. When my ex-fiance moved in with me I felt like everything in life was clicking into place, after suffering a miscarriage whilst still on the pill down to my still elevated but non-treated hormone imbalance my ex-fiance surprised me by declaring his desire to have a son. He told me one night that he wanted to have a baby boy, that he was approaching 30 and didn’t want to be an old dad, that my daughter was so polite, sweet and helpful and he saw her as his own and loved how I am with children. So he proposed to me and asked us to try for a baby, telling me he’d chosen the name Gabriele and how one day they’d race cars together and kick footballs. After the heartache of losing a baby I didn’t know that I was expecting it was as if it was meant to be, I felt so safe and happy and secure in life and loved how positive he was about our future. By then we’d been together almost five years and everything was wonderful. I was the busy mother hen taking care of everyone and he was the laid back influence reminding me to stop and put my feet up, although I rarely did because I had nobody to do it all for me. But I liked being a good girlfriend, having the dinner on the table, the house immaculate and my daughter sweetly tucked up in bed with fresh pyjamas and French vanilla candles twinkling next to our family photos.
So I agreed to try for a baby and literally 10 months later our son came along. To cut a long story short I developed breathing problems, my chest collapsed and I was rushed in for two emergency surgeries to remove, replace and encapsulate my natural breast tissue before undergoing a reconstruction a few months after. After being up all night with a newborn, struggled through months of pain and suffering and my body held together with stitches and painkillers I literally didn’t know what day it was. My home that was once so loving and tidy became covered in children’s toys, mucky fingerprints traced the doorhandles and stale baby bottles stank out the kitchen. Being bed bound upstairs and having to ease off my blood-soaked bandages and dressings each evening my ex-fiance freaked out and after just five days out of hospital he realised his inability to take care of a family, and the day that I unwittingly couldn’t was the day that he realised he wouldn’t. So he left.
Fast forward three years and I’ve had many sleepless nights, money worries, snotty noses, self doubts and insecurities about my appearance. The best way to shatter a girls confidence is certainly to call her fat, boring and bland and those were titles I never thought I’d hear from somebody who had once being so supportive of me. But as every mother does, you soldier on, put your children first and get on with life. My babies needed me more than I needed a man and you can’t have your heart broken if you don’t give it away which suited me just fine.
Being single from the age of 25 with two young children and the responsibility of bills and zero-childcare made my social life non-existent yet it also allowed me to embrace myself for who I am because the beautiful thing about parenting is that children don’t criticise you for what you’re not, but commend you for who and what you are. To hear my children call me beautiful melted my heart, even though I didn’t feel beautiful on the surface, to be told that I’m kind, thoughtful and selfless lifted my spirits and showed me that it was the right thing to do to put my children first, to raise them well and then get back to some me-time when they’re older. My mother always told me the importance of a strong foundation and that’s what I felt I was doing for them in being a constant, calming and hard-working role model.
Being single also meant that I didn’t have anybody telling me what to wear, where to be or how I should look. I stopped painting my nails, rarely dyed my hair and ditched makeup to save money on my pittance of a single income but also because I had nobody to wear makeup for. I didn’t need to cover the dark circles under my eyes or straighten my hair anymore because I could go days, weeks or even months without seeing anyone and other school-mums did the morning school-run in their pyjamas so who was I trying to impress!
That’s really when I embraced nature, I saw myself morning, noon and night at my rawest most natural form and it just became the norm for me. On weekends I hardly got dressed because I knew nobody would be coming over and my son loved running around naked all the time anyway so it wasn’t a crude or underhand thing. I was a plain Jane but I didn’t mind and the breast surgery scars, stretch marks and body imperfections previous partners had disliked no longer concerned me so much because nobody saw them anymore. The more time that passed the less I cared about my appearance and oddly the better received by the public I was, to the tune of 1.6million followers to date who frequently praise me from being honest, real, down to earth and inspirational for my positive outlook on life; it’s true what they say, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.
So when they asked me to take my clothes off on camera for a screen-test in a small office of a TV company in London on a weekday afternoon whilst my mother babysat I took a deep breath, shrugged my shoulders and dropped my Bridget Jones knickers to the floor and exclaimed “I’m 28 and still in my prime, I’ll only get older, wrinklier and droopier from now on so I may as well be happy with what I have!” And a few days later I had a phone call to say that I’d been chosen to take part in the show. Naked.
I didn’t really know much about it until the day that we filmed, it was all very hush hush. I’d signed a contract to say that all footage recorded was confidential and the property of the production company and agreed to a list of clauses and expectations. And the rest was a whirlwind. I arrived at the ITV studios one morning wide-eyed as all of the prime-time TV shows I’d grown up watching proudly displayed pictures of their presenters on the walls, the canteen clattered with cutlery and famous faces and my private dressing room overlooked the glorious river Thames. A security guard stood watch outside my door and one by one makeup, hair, wardrobe and lunch crew came to pamper to my every need. I told the security guard he didn’t have to stand up waiting for me because I could call him over from the canteen if I needed something and he wanted a coffee but he insisted it was his job to keep me safe. The wardrobe people pressed my dress and polished my shoes as I giggled about walking like a man in heels because I never go out to even wear them and the makeup artist asked me how I usually wear my makeup to which I rolled my eyes and confessed to being a tomboy.
Within a few hours I went from a washed out sleep-deprived Cinderella to feeling like the belle of the ball with bouncy hair and beautiful clothes and I did all I could not not burst into tears for how kind everyone had been and how good they made me feel. As a woman it’s easy to fall into the role of being a mother and to forget that you also have needs, that you need to look in the mirror and love what you see and believe in yourself. I’ve never thought that I’m anybody special, personally I don’t find myself attractive and wouldn’t rate my looks but it’s something that I’m stuck with, that I’ve accepted and I embrace my flaws rather than trying to battle them.
Arriving in the studio I was blinded by the lights, the enormity of the production, the 20-odd cameras positioned at every angle and army of crew dressed in black hiding behind curtains, climbing onto towers and manning cameras, sound equipment and screens. And when I saw the host Anna Richardson for the first time I just thought “Wow! She’s gorgeous, so petite and confident and I’m like a butch drag-queen beside her” ready to bare my wonky bits to my parents dismay. I’d come out of hospital just a few days before when I was rushed in with internal bleeding after treatment for my cervical-cells had gone wrong and I had to be burned shut so I still had a sore and swollen stomach and was leaking blood for which I was told to wear a sanitary towel and try to rest up; perhaps not the best time to be stood on my feet naked but the production crew were very understanding and a lovely team of ladies followed me around with hairbrushes, tit-tape and chopped up tampons! It was all very glamourous!
And then the show began, in the cold studio on a weekday morning six beautiful boxes lit up in pretty colours like a tin of Quality Street, each containing a naked man chosen to have a feature of what I deemed attractive and it was up to me to choose my favourite and give reasons as to why. Considering it took me four months to agree to go on a date with my ex-fiance and I had the lights off to get naked in front of him I felt youthfully giddy about the idea of being in the buff in front of a potential new partner but it’s something I highly recommend. In day to day life I don’t have the chance to meet anybody, I rarely leave my house and only go on a night out for weddings, birthdays or funerals sadly, and the messages of lust and adoration I receive from thousands of people a day online makes opening masturbation videos and cocky proposals surprisingly uninspiring. I believe that gentlemen exist, that kindness and confidence still outweigh arrogance somewhere and my Mr Right is waiting for me. I don’t believe seeing somebody dressed in all of their finery, boozed-up, splashing money they can’t afford or racing around in rented cars and a strategically filtered social profile photos give you a true indication of who you’re really seeing and getting to know on a date. Naturally we all want to present the best version of ourselves to a potential partner, but for the other 99% of the time we’re not the person we try so desperately to portray to the world. Although I can put my hand on my heart and actually say that I am, I’m me and always will be and people can take it or leave it and I make no apologies for that anymore.
Having studied psychology, philosophy and sociology at college before writing four books on self-acceptance and dating I’m familiar with body-language and how people portray themselves and I guess I’m almost guided towards people I feel safe with. Those that blush with eye-contact, tuck their thumb into a fist to feel safe and stand a little unsure on their feet. I’m only human, I’m not perfect and I don’t pretend to be, but it’s nice to recognise the same in others because I believe you can then begin on an even ground and similar understanding of life.
And so the show began and as the screens went up so did the pitch of my voice and pace of my heart! Never have I seen 6 naked men presented so beautifully in boxes and I felt like I’d accidentally strolled into a secret enclosure at the zoo but I just couldn’t divert my eyes. It was fantastic and the words flowed so freely as Anna and I pointed, giggled and gawked our way through the rounds. I was literally the cat that got the cream, all of my Christmases had come at once and I couldn’t wipe the ridiculous smile off of my face. I had the utmost respect for everybody on the show for being so brave as to show their bodies because I know they’d have no doubt have gone through the same tears and fears that I had, the same emotions we all have. We all worry about how we look, how people see us, what they think of us and dream of being younger, taller, tighter, firmer and better looking than we are; yet here I was in a room filled with naked men and I just wanted to hug them all and tell them it would be ok in a weird mumsy sort of way.
Knowing I had to eliminate people for each round and identify my reasons why made me feel so awful because having being bullied my entire youth based on my appearance and low self esteem I can’t ever put people down or criticise them, it’s just not in my nature. So with every round when it came to saying goodbye to somebody I literally cringed, covered my eyes and said sorry about a hundred times before giving them a hug and wishing them a nice day. But as the time passed I realised that I’m still a woman, I’m still young-ish and that in such a rare opportunity to compare body types and sizes I’m more attracted to tall, dark and handsome men than the old cliche ever had me believe. Every physical attribute I thought I would avoid, that would be too big-headed, cocky and dare I say it ‘a player’ suddenly gave me reassurance, enthusiasm and butterflies and the sheer size of flacid genitalia just centimetres before my face left me dumbstruck as I was informed he was a grower not a shower.
As the rules of the show go I had to choose a date based purely on attraction and I think it was impossible to hide my enthusiasm. Yet when it came to picking between my last two choices I had to strip off myself and face them in the buff which is quite frankly a situation I’ve never been faced with before but it was ridiculously liberating and I’m so glad that I did it.
The two guys I had left was a tall, tattoo’d northern guy who was younger than me and a shorter funny Londoner who was older than me. Considering I’ve only ever dated older guys I was instinctively drawn to the Londoner mentally weighing it up that he lives nearby, has tattoos that I love, a cheeky smile and hilarious sense of humour and I knew we’d get along which is how I would have picked a guy in everyday life with my imaginary checklist. But based purely on looks I had to go with the young northern lad which was really against my grain and safety net but perhaps exactly what I needed after being so unlucky in love my whole life!
And I’m so glad that I chose him because on the date he totally put me at ease and proved my preconceptions wrong. The North/South accent divide was pretty difficult to understand at first but as we downed our shots at the bar and laughed our way through several hours I realised we had a ridiculous amount of things in common. He was raised by a single mother too and understands my lifestyle entirely; we both love tattoos, have great banter and oddly the seven year age gap wasn’t a problem at all as our very different lives haven’t affected our interests and outlook on life. If I saw him on a night out 100% I would never have approached him let alone seen him naked but Naked Attraction put me in a situation that I wish I’d been in years ago!
So let’s approach that elephant in the room where I inadvertantly called my vagina a jam jar after having kids and expressed that I think it looks like a stamped on beef sandwich shall we! It’s safe to say that I said a lot of things and I fail to censor my thoughts as they tumble off of my tongue at a million miles an hour but I am who I am and I wouldn’t change myself nor ask anyone else to change for me because life is too short to be anything other than true. The vagina jam jar comment was based on being questioned about small willies and how I feel about them after giving birth and I rambled on for several minutes about how having sex after childbirth makes you question if smaller genitalia is actually in or not like throwing a sausage into a jam jar, not that I have a jam jar for a vagina but the poor production people have to snip it down to just the best bits to make it fit into half an hour in a round about way, please excuse my pun. It was my way of justifying my appreciation of a large penis if given the choice on size, but I’m quite happy with one average sized finger thanks my pelvic floor kegal weights. As a mother my body changed incredibly from being a slinky 18yr old to having two children at 28, I gained weight and then lost weight, my breasts swelled and then deflated and annoyingly fell off which is why i’ve had three surgeries, my stomach became a giant stretch-marked mountain and I’ve worked it back to a somewhat alright condition and yes I gave birth naturally twice but it obviously doesn’t stay dilated like that; like any muscle in your body you can strengthen it with time and effort just as I have my abs, arms, legs, and whatever else you care to inspect of mine whilst I’m on TV in my birthday suit – skin stretches and can ping back with effort. As for my thoughts on my vaginas appearance I don’t think it’s my most attractive feature and I rarely look at it. Being vegan I dislike the taste and texture of meat and my genitals very much remind me of a beef sandwich, I said it, it’s out there and make of it what you will.
To this end I would like to say a very big thank you to all involved in the process of putting a twinkle in my eye and giving me this opportunity. Yes I’m a mother, yes I got naked on TV, yes I speak my mind and yes I appreciate long, hard, sweaty passionate sex multiple times a day. I think in a world filled with criticism, keyboard warriors, bitterness and hate it’s nice to be reminded that we can still be human, free to express ourselves and able to have amazing experiences in the most random of situations. Variety is the spice of life and I have nothing but praise for Naked Attraction and any negative comments directed my way are basically water off of a ducks back and I certainly won’t dwell on them; judging a person does not define who they are, it merely defines who you are.
UPDATE: 10/08/16 2 Days Later
So it’s been two days since the show went out and my phone is still exploding from messages, calls, texts and emails as I pretty much expected it would. Naturally the show has had mixed responses and it’s always interesting to see the stories that crop up in the press about me which are pretty crazy at the best of times! So to clear up a few facts and inaccurate figures here I’ll share with you some of the press along with what actually happened! You can click on the pictures to read the full press articles and I’ve put my thoughts in red to make it a little easier to read. Grab a sandwich and get ready!
The Sun wrote:
“SINGLE mum Tracy raised eyebrows with Naked Attraction fans after ditching a man based on his penis size – and saying it reminded her of her DAD. She ditched her second contestant, in the Blue box, after comparing his manhood to that of her dad – basing her judgement without even seeing his face.
When studying his lower half she told host Anna Richardson the man in question, photographer Daniel, prompted images of furry animal and said: “He’s like my dad, a little hairy bear – he molts everywhere.” After giving him the boot she reasoned: “He just looks like my dad!” before Anna quizzed: “Too familiar, yeah? The racy TV show raised eyebrows tonight with fans left truly puzzled by the blonde’s comment.
Ok, first of all can I just put it out there that I have never seen my dads penis! Nor would I ever want to, not accidentally, incestuously or however else you’d ever see your parents genitals. But the contestant that I had to ask to leave had the same body shape and coverage of hair as my bear-like dad which reminded me of him and I didn’t find it attractive. Some girls look for a father figure when dating but I certainly don’t.
The Huffington Post are talking about my vagina!
“Mum-of-two Tracy was one of the, shall we say, open-minded individuals taking part in the show, and when she was forced to lose her clothing during the final round of looking at a load of men in the buff, she made a rather special comparison about her vagina.
We’re warning you now, it’s quite something. “I think mine looks like a beef sandwich,” she told host Anna Richardson. As you can imagine, the people of the internet reacted accordingly.”
I’ll take ‘open-minded’ and raise you an ‘outrageously-honest’ HP!
The Telegraph describes me as being on ‘penis patrol’
“Once again love-hungry members of the public were invited to assess potential romantic partners arrayed before them in a state of advanced nakedness. On penis patrol this week was Tracy, single for three years and fed up with the boring romantic convention whereby you are expected to engage prospective beaus in conversation before proceeding to the far more important business of forensically examining their love handles.”
Although they clearly disagree with the show and everything it stands for this quote just killed it and I couldn’t stop laughing! High five for making me snort!
I spoke to Loaded about my ‘beef sandwich’ and they’ve written:
“She was the talk of Channel 4’s Naked Attraction this week but what exactly possessed contestant Tracy Kiss to describe her vagina as a “beef sandwich”? Well, loaded spoke to the woman herself to find out. Recruited via social media to appear on the dating show, which sees one woman or man choose from a panel of six completely naked would-be dates, Kiss served up, pardon the pun, one of the most memorable moments on the show. But, for the personal trainer, blogger, journalist and all-round social media star, the description was more about being herself in the only way she knew how.
As much as anything for Kiss, the beef sandwich revelation was about showing that, despite being a personal trainer with a raft of romantic admirers on Twitter, YouTube and Instagram, she, like everyone else, has flaws. “I know that I’m not perfect, we all have body hang ups but I don’t censor myself, I am who I am and after an entire childhood of being bullied for being ugly, shy and too geeky as a woman I have accepted that people will either love or hate me for who I am,” Kiss said.”
I love Loaded <3 It’s nice to see my side of things being listened to without getting twisted!
Digital Spy seem slightly shocked by my beef sandwich reference!
“Mother-of-two Tracy was first up in the third episode of Channel 4’s unique dating show and after she’d got starkers, she had a rather special description for her vagina… comparing it to a “beef sandwich”
I think if more people said it as it is then there’d be no such thing as political correctness and causing offence. I’d never want to upset anyone or put them down, my words are simply honest and to the point and I think it’s because I spend so much time with my wonderful children who say everything as they see it because they’re so preciously innocent!
The Daily Record Says:
“Women can refer to their downstairs with names such as honeypot or muff, while men call their parts everything from johnson to trouser snake. However, sometimes people can abuse the privilege of naming your own genitalia, to the point of putting many off their lunch. In last night’s Naked Attraction, one such woman did just that.
Appearing on the bizarre new Channel 4 dating show, Tracey from Buckinghamshire referred to her lady bits as a beef sandwich. Needless to say, Twitter had a bit of a meltdown.”
It turns out not many ladies favour on calling their intimate parts such true to life names, maybe I’ll stuck to muff-puff or kitten-fritter in future!
Oh look, The Sun is out again – twice in one day that’s got to be a record for English weather!
“Before stripping off Tracey, from Buckinghamshire, referred to her vagina as both a jam jar and a beef sandwich – leaving horrified viewers in hysterics. Twitter went mad for the unappetising comparison – which could very easily put you off your lunch.”
I’m actually going to have to measure a jam-jar now to satisfy my OCD because 10cm dilated during birth feels like it could be a jam-jar if not a Nescafe coffee jar, Pringles tube or church candle. For the record I’m no longer 10cm dilated, it’s only during the final stage of labour!
UPDATE: 17/10/16 Setting The Trolls Straight
After receiving some rather critical comments recently from three ladies I feel the need to update you on my thoughts. So my episode went out a few months ago and received a lot of praise for being open, honest and saying what others dare not mention compared to the other contestants who were nervous and reserved in comparison. Mark clearly made an impression on ladies for his undeniable good looks and giant penis and because of this people have questioned my motive for taking part in the show, suggesting I am shallow and only looking for sex because of my choice of partner.
To set the record straight I wasn’t just looking for sex – let’s face it that’d be a bonus – I was open minded to finding love and was asked to seek out a physical attraction with a man that I’d never met before. Mark also appeared on another show about health later in the year that I’d filmed for after Naked Attraction when I was approached to discuss the importance of cervical screening. I didn’t film it with Mark or see any of the other contributors, so for people to suggest it was all a set up and we were seeing each other before the show is ridiculous.
I’ve been showered with compliments by men for appearing on the show yet ripped to shreds by these three women which I find cruel and unnecessary but despite this I always answer their questions. Having being bullied my entire childhood for being shy and ugly, as well as being a mother of two, I understand how hurtful words can be and I would hate to think of anybody being victimised and treated the same way. There is no excuse for bullying and I don’t believe we should tolerate it in immature children let alone adults who should know better. As a personal trainer I do my best to pick others up, to help to rebuild their self confidence and restore self esteem after childbirth, heartbreak and the effects of ageing on the body yet one of the very good looking contestants that I turned down was also a personal trainer and very confidently said how perfect his body was and how he loved everything about himself which I found a turn-off because I don’t view myself with such high regard. I’ve accepted my body for its flaws but I know that I’ll never feel perfect. I could never walk onto a TV show and pretend that I’m a 10/10 and absolutely love myself when I don’t, I’m human, I have mirrors in my home and am under no illusion what I look like which is why I talk about my appearance honestly; “I don’t like my stretch marks because…” Despite having an emergency breast reconstruction three years ago following the birth of my son I’ve had these women telling me that my breasts look horrendous and are too far apart to be attractive, yet I’m fortunate and very grateful just to be alive. After working hard in the gym to regain my body confidence and post-pregnancy figure I’ve now been accused of being attention seeking for showing off my body on TV before I get too old and nobody finds me attractive anymore, which leaves me exasperated. If you can’t look slim and pert whilst you’re still fairly young then I’m baffled by what is expected of me here!?
I know that these women are keyboard warriors with nothing better to do with their time than to put others down to make themselves feel better, and the fact that they’ve taken time out of their day to look me up and leave such extensive put-downs online shows that it’s obviously something they feel very passionate about and want me to know and take on board. But I just can’t accept blatant cruelty and it doesn’t fall as constructive criticism in my book. As always I read all feedback that I receive and am a fan of freedom of speech so I wouldn’t prevent such horrible words from being shared on my blog or social media, but having to justify my actions over and over for seemingly the same reason to the same three people is getting pretty tiresome which is why I’m writing this update instead.
If my children tell me my clothes aren’t nice I get changed, if my dinner is too bland for my guests I add spice, or if I’m not happy with a part of my body I either try to improve it or embrace it for what it is and always will be. There’s a right and wrong way to go about communicating with others and I don’t believe being deliberately cruel and disrespectful is acceptable. I’ve had a few remarks about speaking about my ex-partners excessively long foreskin and how I don’t find it particularly attractive in men, which isn’t to say that I didn’t find my ex attractive, or that I ever made him feel bad about it. If anything he was very confident in his own skin as he was several years older than me when we dated and we were able to be open and honest with one another. He understood why I didn’t feel comfortable performing oral sex on him because of it and never took anything to heart which is why I felt able to make the comparison between a likewise confident contestant proudly baring his large foreskin and my own personal experience of a large foreskin on my confident ex which influenced my decision on who to pick as a date based purely on attraction. I think it’s down to an individual to use their own judgement when discussing life experiences and past relationships and I wouldn’t have spoken about a shy or insecure partner publicly or privately in the same way because I wouldn’t want to upset them or cause body-confidence issues. Likewise if the contestant it was on was showing shy body language I would have mentioned something else instead. My ex was very confident and we had incredible sex because of it but we split up because we were at different stages in our lives at the time, we remain friends and I wish him all the best in life. I highly doubt anybody would ever be able to identify him based on my foreskin remark unless they know me and have seen him naked and/or are in a relationship with him. And the contestant who had the long foreskin proclaimed that his body was perfect and he loved everything about himself so I doubt he’ll lose sleep over me discussing my personal preference of foreskin.
The feedback I get on social media is incredibly flattering, wonderful and touching as people can see me for who I am, uncensored, unmasked and unashamedly myself which I believe we all should be because life is too short to be anything else. I’ve never been so happy and content with my body mind and soul as I am now at the age of 29, I’m just disappointed that a few ladies -a term which I use loosely, but not to the extent of a jam jar- have felt the need to be so unkind. Yet at the same time it makes me feel incredibly grateful to have such strong, supportive and open-minded women surrounding me in life who thankfully don’t share the same vile views as these trolls. Because that’s what they are, bullies without faces, hiding behind usernames, perhaps unhappy, unloved and spiteful; souls who need healing themselves so that they too can love and be loved by others for being their true selves rather than hating on strangers.
They also suggested that Mark wouldn’t have picked me from a line up if he was choosing, or that I made the wrong decision from the men in the boxes by picking the best looking when the other men would have been more kind and genuine, but who is to say what might have happened if the show or contestants had been different? All that I know is I made my decision based on the criteria I was given and I am happy with the outcome. The answers I gave were shortened down to meet time limits because I literally talk for England and I genuinely hugged and thanked every guy that I regrettably had to say goodbye to. I applauded the staff and crew profusely for being so kind, hospitable and complimentary to a unlucky-in-love mum like me and giving me the chance to live a little for once. I live day to day as a single-parent Cinderella and it was inspiring and eye opening to see dating in a different light – all six of them!
Mark is far more than a gorgeous, well-hung, 6ft4″ northern Cheryl Cole sounding stud muffin. We’ve got to know each other incredibly well on so many levels since meeting on the show and there’s far more to him than meets the eye that I think a lot of people don’t see. We constantly laugh when we’re together, chat and meet up all of the time and surprisingly have so much in common that I’ve never found in another person before. I’ve always dated older, always chosen personality over looks, always stuck to what I know best and felt safe with in relationships but they never worked out. Naked Attraction has shown me that the people you would usually run a mile from or be inexplicably cautious of can sometimes be far more suitable than the safe bet you always default to. Wether it’s looks, age, race, education or whatever your typical deciding factors are in choosing a partner I urge you to step outside of your comfort zone and take a walk on the wild side.
And my advice for the bitchy comments from women? Put your claws away, be kind to others, embrace your own imperfect bodies and maybe you will be as happy as I am with mine. After all, beauty comes from within and I would never lose sleep over pretending to be somebody I’m not; I am who I am.
If you want to know what happens next then pop back later and keep your eyes peeled for the press; please tag me if you spot something I’ve missed!