There are so many versions of how to be sexy around right now, and I’m none of them. I’m not curvaceous and sultry. I’m not waif like and femme. I’m not fashionable. I don’t have a seductive voice, or sensual lips, or beautiful flowing hair, or legs for days (whatever that means). I don’t wear high heels, or make-up, and my knickers rarely match my bra.

My belly is bigger than my breasts. I have hairy legs and arm pits. I have pubic hair. I have cellulite all over my butt and thighs. I have stretch marks. I have depression. My clothes are comfortable, loose and warm.

It’s weird, all these ways to be sexy, they rarely include just feeling happy in your own skin. And that’s what I am. I’m happy. I’m comfortable, and I have fantastic, exploratory sex all the time.

Some people may suggest that I’ve “let myself go”. Sure, if that’s what you want to call being confident enough to initiate sex while I’m in my old sweat pants, with messed up hair and a pretty decent mustache. I’m not sure exactly what I was holding myself together for in the first place. My insecurity had me hating my body, trying to force it to be thinner and hairless, dressing it up in tight clothing and shoes that left me in pain. Perhaps that’s the part of myself people are afraid I’ve let go of? That insecure voice in my head? If that’s the case, then rest assured, that voice still visits. It’s just moved on to larger problems than trying to be sexy.

Don’t get me wrong, I love sex. I love masturbation too. I think sexual play is the most fun I can possibly have with another adult human. My sex drive has always been high, and I’ve been fortunate enough not to struggle to find sexual partners. My current predicament has nothing to do with lack of sex or sex drive.

It’s not just that I’m not sexy, it’s that I actively reject a lot of things that are supposed to be sexy, and encourage things that are deemed unsexy. Like period sex. Period sex or masturbation can be great. I encourage people to try it, not as a kink or fetish, just because I don’t see why you should deny yourself pleasure or nature’s best pain relief just because your womb happens to be shedding its lining. See what I mean about not being sexy? Same thing goes for body hair. I don’t want to have sex with someone who fetishises my leg hair as some kind of taboo.  I have sex with people who see me as a fully formed human being, who just happens to have body hair. What’s sexy about that?

Maybe sexy isn’t the right word. Maybe sexy is over rated. I’m not sure. How can I have so much sex but not be sexy? I’m not sure about that either. Maybe I just blindside people so much that they are confused into having sex with me, because they don’t expect a person who lacks sexiness to want to have sex with them. I honestly have no idea how I’m managed to get lucky so often.

I have the sneaking suspicion that it’s because being sexy is more complex than it first seems. I think we’re more animal than we like to think we are. Some people just smell right, and I feel a strong physical urge to fuck them. It’s not a calculated decision.

Sometimes I look at the content on my blog, particularly my personal opinion pieces, and I think I’m not sexy enough to be a sex blogger. Not much of these personal pieces I write are sexy at all. At least not in the traditional sense. I blog about depression, abuse, thrush, PCOS, periods, cervical screening, none of which is sexy. I see so many other sex bloggers being sexy as fuck, in words and images, and I wonder if I really fit in in this corner of the internet? This isn’t me lamenting that I don’t think I’m attractive enough. It’s more an odd realisation that I came to, that perhaps I’m not a sex blogger after all. Perhaps I’m just too comfortably unsexy?

I’m not sure where this leaves me. I’ve been feeling out of place at the mo. Like I can’t say anything helpful or useful. I used to think what I wrote was halfway decent. Now I’m not sure. I feel like there are so many other, far better voices than mine. Voices that really say stuff that resonates with people. Voices that truly help people explore their kinks or educate them. #SOSS is a testament to that. My voice holds very little value in comparison.

I think I need a break from social media, and perhaps from product reviews. The reviews seem to have taken over a bit, and I’m not sure I want them to. I’ve got 4 products I am committed to review, and a giveaway to host. After that I’ll try to take a break and evaluate what I am doing, and what I want Miss Jezebella to be. It’s hard, realising that I’m not very good at something I like doing. I wish I didn’t care, but the truth is my ego is a douche bag, who does care, and I’d rather do nothing at all than do something badly. I just don’t have the energy to consistently create posts I’m really proud of.

This isn’t me saying goodbye (and of course, I have those four reviews to publish, which I will do throughout December). This is me taking a step back and evaluating. After all, the blog doesn’t make money, it’s supposed to be a fun creative outlet. I need to find that again.

The feature image for this post is a word cloud I created using the content from MissJezebella.com. It’s not really a surprise that the biggest words were Review and Vibrator. It’s still pretty telling to see what ends up weighted high enough to be up there. Like why the fuck did I write “November” so often?