I saw the film embrace today. There were four of us in the cinema, staggered through the rows. Four women, aged 20s to 50s I would guess. All different shapes and sizes. All eating a Cinema Nova choc top. 

The film is a well curated quasi professional documentary style of work, the protagonist and documentary maker being a mother of three, who went viral posting a post-body builder shot of herself on Facebook, tastefully naked, as her adorable husband says. 

I was initially skeptical that I might relate to this attractive, symmetrical, aesthetically beautiful woman encouraging us to love ourselves. I soon felt remorseful for thinking that way. 

The film introduced us to women around the globe, struggling with body image. The size 12 model, the transgender woman, the movie stars, the burns ‘victim’ (one of the most vocally audacious women speaking out), the bearded lady, the physically impaired. 

It was at times laced with a lightheartedness, at other times beautifully warm and touching. The most striking take home for me, was a tantalising hope that social media will globalise a new message, a new definition of beauty. 

Aesthetics is a battlefield and I have long detested the message of ‘beauty within’, because really, to change the way we feel, it is our construct of the beauty without that needs to shift.

Everyone knows that a nice person, a gentle soul, is beautiful. But not everyone sees that outward beauty is actually everywhere. It is not owned by the thin, the tall and the smooth. 

If you read to the bottom of this, thanks, you look amazing. 

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I was looking at her. I said I think I may be having a heart attack. She told me it was anxiety. She said she had Googled it. I believed her, there had been many nights of broken sleep and high heart rates. No seriously I said, my chest hurts. My throat hurts. And no, I can’t go for a walk. Okay I will have a massage.

And fast forward, I was lying there. A Thai woman half my weight was leaning into me. I thought about the last few days, and whether they were enough. You know, if I did drop off the perch. I had a lovely Saturday with Mum. She stayed over. We watched movies and ate Messina. I had breakfast with Dad on Monday. He spilled coffee and took a photo of me with my own Camera, and he liked the sun on his face. He thanked me.

The last text I sent my daughter and wife said that they were my diamonds in a sea of high pressure carbon. This morning I made coffee for two polite and appreciative strangers. Yesterday I met the most tenacious kid I ever will, she made me feel like my work has value. This morning in the frosty moments I had walked Moss and paint spotted, and smiled at her existence.

So I decided that yes, it was enough. Not in any ‘I wish to die’ kind of way, but in the sense that if it was my time, I felt satisfied my last encounters mattered. I also wondered if I mattered. Seriously, in the grand scheme. Do any of us? The massage ended. I was not dying. Good for another day. But so you know, among it, what became apparent was, it isn’t what good I may have said to those I love, but what I’d left unsaid. It came down to what I hadn’t said that needed saying. Love is easy. Trouble is uncomfortable.

I will leave you with that. I am off air for a bit. I will say this though: speak up about what you do not want. Change it now. Otherwise you will find yourself being rubbed by a stranger and wishing you had the guts to say it.