Confessions of a Sex Symbol...

Hi, My name is Nicole, and I think I am a sex symbol.

I started growing lumps on my chest when I was in 3rd grade. I was 8 or 9 at that time. I was fleshy and I noticed that I was different. I took it in a negative way. When you're 8 or 9, how would one understand what was going on?

During high school, I refused wearing brassieres. I think they make my breasts look bigger. I was still round and fleshy. And I was still different.  

I was different in the way I look. I was different in the way I dress. I was different in the way I speak. I was different in the way I think. I was different!

I was different and I excel. I excel in everything I did as a student. A consistent honor student since kindergarten. A school representative in inter school competitions in different fields. The Arts, Sciences and Communication. I was a constant student leader.

I guess I never really enjoyed being young and carefree. Everyone expected a lot from me. And my parents, perhaps having seen how different I am, protected me too much. Little did they know, that when I was a child, I endured sexual abuse by my uncle. Someone they trusted. Someone -  I trusted.

Many boys  men tried to win me over. They made me believe that they love the person I am and not just what they see. Or perhaps it's just me. Perhaps I carried the shame that I am damaged and that no man will ever love someone as damaged as I am. I was a SOFT REBEL WITH A REASON.

Yes, I am a pleaser. But No, I don't like it when I see a man looking at me with lewd intentions. It doesn't make me feel good when I know that a man is just after what they see and not HOW THEY KNOW me.

Yes, I like staring at myself in the mirror. Yes, I admit I like what I see. Perhaps not all the time, but most of the time. When I look into my own eyes, it WAS like searching who I have become, who I was, and who I am. There came a point when my reflection would make me feel like I was looking straight into the eyes of a perfect stranger who does not even look like me. A youthful and innocent face combined with a vixens body. What could be more seductive than that? I can look straight into your eyes and turn your stomach upside down.

I could become your surREAL fantasy.

An object of sex vs. an image of imperfection. I would rather choose the latter. 

In a world of deceit and cruel intentions, for someone who was sheltered and yes...IGNORANT, one finds it hard to fathom sincerity. An object of sex - this makes me feel like I am a toy. Disposable. 
An image of perfection - there...this is what a human is.

I am grateful and humbled by those kind hearted people who look at me as a person. I am awed by the men who sincerely offer their undying love and admiration. I am saddened by those who look at me as merely a symbol of sexuality. I am sad, NO LONGER FOR MYSELF, but for those whose shallowness exudes in the way they look at people. You are who you are inside. You think and you feel because you are you.  I feel bad because there are just too many unkind people who don't respect others perhaps because they have not experienced it either.

Yes, I WAS my own stranger. perhaps I was too young to really understand the implications of who I really AM. Someone ....DIFFERENT  SPECIAL.

It was not an easy journey of trying to find missing self. After all, how can someone find something that she doesn't know?

Now I've came to the realization of who I AM. And I have come to UNDERSTAND the implications of my gifts. 

I refuse to follow the steps of Marilyn Monroe. I'll turn it around this time. I want to use these gifts to empower women. To encourage the youth. To inspire people. To delete the notion that someone smart and worthy is not beautiful and sexy. I want to ignite the end of exploitation and abuse.

I may seem delicate - but I am strong.

Yes, I still like staring at myself in the mirror. 

I am awed by my beautiful imperfections. . .

FINALLY....