By Kate Ng
Viewing myself as a sexy and sexual human being has been a journey, especially coming from a Christian and conservative Asian family. I spent years repressing my sexual curiosity, attempting to conform to sexist expectations and learning how to hate my body for not moulding itself into the shape my society had set in stone for me.
I learned that a woman's place was to placate, to be seen but not heard, to obey. But once I was able to break the lens of sexism by which my world was formed, I learned to love my body. I look back at photos of my teenage self and wonder why I ever called myself such harsh names, why I pulled and tugged and covered and shamed the softness of my rolls and curves, desperate for them to melt away.
The journey is an ongoing one - there are times I feel myself slipping back into my old ways, looking in the mirror searching for something to love when really, it is laid bare that all of it is for loving. Everyday I actively reject the sexism I have been taught to apply to my body and myself, surround myself with strong female figures to look up to and emulate, and remind myself to be kind. I am sexy, in my own right, and I am loved.