This Is Me

In the past, I’ve written about the fact that I have looks which challenge society’s conventional beauty standards. I genuinely believe that I cultivated an entire personality around the idea of creating something unique about myself in order to avoid any more rejection. I know it sounds sad — and it is, in a way — but now that I’m in my forties, I don’t care so much anymore. I wanted to fully introduce myself to you and show you who I am and what I mean. This is an anonymous blog, and I haven’t named myself or anyone in it, and sharing these photos won’t identify me. But it’s really just my way of showing you that, while I am not a beautiful woman, I at least try to be a half decent person — and maybe you can see that in these photos of me.

This first photo was taken at Nanny’s granddaughter Janine’s hen’s party. It was about 16 years ago, just before so much started happening in my life. Janine held a competition for the best hat, and my KGB vibes won me first prize.

The second photo I want to share with you was taken around fifteen years ago, when my parents, Nanny, and I travelled from Adelaide to Canberra to see my brother graduate from the Royal Military College, Duntroon. I know he went through a lot of soul searching after his business failed, and he ended up deciding to become an officer in the Army. I think I took this selfie before selfies were a thing, but I remember I was in the room of the apartment I was staying in, and I just snapped it. I think at first glance I look like a normal person, but if you look closely, you can see what everyone is talking about.

The trip to Canberra was good; I spent most of the time with Nanny. We had a look around Canberra and went to the Glassworks, but Nanny's behaviour was very interesting. I think I’ve mentioned to you before that Nanny was from a very working-class family. Her husband was a brickie until he retired, and she worked as a nursing assistant, in delis, as a cleaner, and then for over forty years with us as a nanny and housekeeper.

She was very tight with the dollar, and it was a real contrast to my parents — who didn’t flaunt their money by any means, but did enjoy the finer things in life. The trip to Canberra was something Nanny would never have done on her own, but it was very important to Ben that she was at his graduation, so Mum paid for everything for her, including airfares and accommodation. From memory, I think we flew business class. I don’t think Mum and Dad were in the habit of flying business class for domestic flights, but I somehow remember being at the front of the plane. I definitely remember being in the lounge beforehand, and Nanny was actually quite rude.

When we arrived in Canberra, we were staying in five-star apartments. I was sharing with Nanny, and she was acting like she was turning her nose up at it all. She was quite rude to Mum while we were over there too. When we were in the lounge on the way back to Adelaide, I remember asking Nanny if she wanted something to eat. I brought her a plate of food, and she just pushed it away and said something to Mum, and Mum looked at me like she’d had enough. I thought she was going to say something, but she didn’t — thank goodness.

We got home without any issues, and in the coming days Nanny sent Mum some flowers, thanking her for the trip. I know Nanny’s rudeness was because of the almost-extravagance of the trip. I think she felt out of place, and it definitely wasn’t like we were shoving it in her face, but there was some sort of weird imbalance to it all. I will never forget that. It was a time I felt distant from her, which was weird because she was the closest person to me.

Not long after my brother graduated from Duntroon, we drove together from Adelaide to Darwin. I was really just along for the ride, and then from Darwin I ended up in Sydney. It was a great drive. We stopped at all these little towns and hotels and spent a couple of nights along the road.

Below, you can see two photos of me from the trip. The first is out the front of Uluru. It’s actually of both my brother and me, but I cut him out because he would not be too happy if he knew I was including his photo in an anonymous blog. The second photo is when we stopped at Australia's Most Remote Traffic Lights.

The next photograph I’ll share with you were taken not long after our road trip to Darwin. I was living in Sydney, but my friend had just become the president of the national Young Liberal Movement. There was a Young Liberal conference on the Gold Coast, so I jumped on a plane and joined in the festivities.

Around this time, I was campaigning to save the lives of the then three members of the Bali Nine on death row: Andrew Chan, Myuran Sukumaran, and Scott Rush. Scott Rush later had his sentence commuted to life in prison, and I actually think he’s back in Australia now.

It’s funny — I think back to that time, and the arguments I used when talking to people about it just don’t hold up. It’s not about not deserving death for drug smuggling; that is the law in Indonesia, and there’s not a lot anyone can do about that apart from the Indonesians themselves.

Another common argument against the death penalty is that an innocent man or woman could be executed. Well, to me that says it’s not so much about the death penalty as such — it’s about the level of trust we have in our judicial and criminal justice systems. You could put someone behind bars for their natural life, and it’s the same principle.

I also think the death penalty makes martyrs of some very bad people. For example, Van Tuong Nguyen, who was executed in Singapore in 2005, also for drugs. Judges, lawyers, and everyday people campaigned for his right to life — and I agree, he had a right to life — but he was not a nice person. He actually cut someone’s ear off with a sword. These are the sorts of people we are fighting for in relation to the death penalty.

I don’t believe in it. I passionately oppose it. I think everyone has a right to life, and if we’re saying, “Don’t kill people,” what sense does it make to then go around and kill them? I also don’t like the idea that the government gets to say who lives and who dies. But then I support a woman’s right to choose, and voluntary euthanasia — so does that make me a hypocrite?

I don’t think the people we fight for are necessarily good or righteous people, but I believe in their right to continue breathing — even if the air would probably stink of their evil depravity.

I didn’t say anything like that to Roy Wyatt when I met him. I think I just said, “Free the Bali Nine,” to which he replied that it was very sad. 

The photo with Roy really annoys me because there’s this random piece of hair over my face — I just want to swipe it away!

I stayed in Sydney for a while, and then I went to Canberra, where I checked into a five-star hotel that had basic budget accommodation upstairs. They rented out rooms for $400 a week. I actually wrote a book while I was there, but I wasn’t really having a good time of it.

Below, you can see a photo I snapped of myself — I think I was talking to someone on the computer at the time.

Following my return back to Adelaide I had some health issues, and I put on a lot of weight. I looked — and still look — even more shocking than I did in the above photos. Below, you can see me at the townhouse in North Adelaide I was renting with a girlfriend of mine.

The final photo I’ll share with you is a selfie I took in 2022. I took it when I went to Mt Gambier. The purpose of my trip was to see the bioluminescent mushrooms — which were amazing. It was so cold when I was there, but I had an incredible time.

I actually flew to Mt Gambier and hired a car. I don’t like to drive on country roads. It was a bit of a drive to get to the mushrooms, but I was lucky I had a friend to take me.

You can’t really see it, but just to set the scene — this photo was taken at the Blue Lake. It’s actually a very flattering photo, because I’m pretty much the same now, but I look a million times heavier in person.

Sharing these eight photos of myself with you is my way of saying: yes, I defy society’s conventional standards of beauty. Put simply, I am ugly. But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again — there is a place for a beautiful woman in this world, and I also believe there is a place for an ugly one.

I know I probably don’t look overly hideous from the front, but I think my downfall is my side profile. Lately, I’ve thought about getting a nose job, wondering if that might help. But my friend Maiki told me never to do that — that my nose is my identity, part of who I am. He also said I’m beautiful, which is so sweet, but it means nothing to me. Years of feedback from so many different people can’t all be wrong. So many have expressed to me, either openly or behind my back, how terrible looking I am, and it’s been tough.

To be honest, I think that rejection from society has shaped who I am today — and God knows who that even is. But more than anything, I hate that we live in a world where people care so much about what you look like.

I am not an overly good or particularly special person. I’m flawed in a way that disqualifies me from a lot of what life has to offer — but I don’t think the way I look says anything about who I really am as a person.