Rethinking Self-Love: Embracing Body Neutrality

People often ask me what body positivity means to me, and for a long time, my answer was simple: self-love, not just for yourself, but extended outward to others. To me, it always meant embracing self-acceptance and showing respect for people of all shapes, sizes, ages, sexualities, ethnicities, backgrounds, physical abilities, genders, and gender identities. It’s about building each other up, not tearing anyone down to lift ourselves higher. That, at its core, was what body positivity once meant to me.

But over time, my relationship with the term changed. These days, I gravitate more toward body neutrality. While the body positivity movement began with beautiful intentions, it eventually took on a tone that felt unrealistic, even oppressive in its own way. It began to suggest that we must love every single part of ourselves at all times, that anything less was a failure of confidence. But that’s just not human. Some days, you won’t love how you look, and that’s okay. You can hold discomfort and still have value. You can acknowledge that certain parts of your body aren’t your favorite without losing respect for yourself.

The truth is, you are more than your appearance. And you deserve dignity, love, and freedom no matter how you feel when you look in the mirror. Confidence isn't a permanent state, it ebbs and flows. Most people carry insecurities, even if they don’t talk about them. You are not alone in that.

Surviving The Storm (CW: Sexual Abuse)

People often assume they know my story, that I must have had some charmed beginning, or that confidence came easily to me. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

I was raised in the north of Amsterdam in a broken home, with a mother who was emotionally and physically abusive. My parents separated when I was around five years old, and I spent much of my early life being shuttled back and forth between my mother and grandparents.

At the age of five, I was molested by a close family friend, someone my mother considered a "brother" and insisted I call "uncle." The abuse lasted two years. I was manipulated into silence, buried in shame I didn’t understand. That trauma followed me into my late teens, shaping how I saw myself and how safe I felt in the world.

It wasn’t until I was about ten that my grandmother, the only stable figure in my life, gained full custody of me. A few years later, I made the decision to cut all contact with my mother, and I haven’t spoken to her since. It wasn’t easy. I carried guilt for a long time, but ultimately, I chose my peace. And that choice, to walk away from someone toxic, even if they’re family, was the beginning of my healing.

*Grandma and I though out the years, the photo on the right is the last one of us together before she passed away*

High School was another challenging time for me. I was bullied severely and often ate lunch in the bathroom stalls to avoid confrontation. I was extremely desperate to make friends. In my despair, I'd often try to 'buy' friendship by giving stuff to other kids in the hopes that they would befriend me...Of course I'd only end up being used and made fun of even more. When I was 14 I was overpowered by 3 older boys in the same bathroom that provided me with my 'hide-out' and sexually assaulted. I remember the jokes very clearly about how I wouldn’t be fat anymore once they were done with me and how they needed a bag to cover my ugly face.

Healing Isn’t Linear — And That’s Okay

I struggled with PTSD, anxiety and depressing late into my teens and early adulthood. Even today, I still face depression. It comes in waves and sometimes it lingers. But I’ve learned to meet it with honesty and patience. I no longer see my mental health as a weakness, I see it as a part of me that just needs care, like anything else. I’ve stopped trying to "win" against it. Instead, we co-exist. Sometimes messy, sometimes quiet. But always human.

I believe deeply in the power of visibility. We need to see people talking about the hard stuff , the abuse, the bullying, the anxiety, the days when self-love feels impossible. Representation isn’t just about diversity in skin tone or body size. It’s about telling real stories, unfiltered.That’s why I continue to share mine. Not for pity. But for connection.

Redefining Beauty on My Own Terms

Through years of creating and evolving, I came to understand that my body is not a battleground. It's not an object to perfect, it's a home, my palace. I stopped striving for approval through aesthetics and instead started asking myself: Do I feel powerful in this? Do I feel like myself?

What started as a way to rebel through horror makeup and gory shoots turned into a platform for self-expression, storytelling, and eventually…healing. I didn’t just transform on the outside. I began reclaiming pieces of myself I thought were lost to trauma. The more I embraced my truth, the stronger I became.

Modeling, makeup, and art became my language. Through them, I learned to take control of my image, my story, and most importantly, my narrative. It was never about being beautiful by society's standards. It was about becoming whole by my own.

Continued below

*The early days: Modeling shots from 2002-2004*

New Beginnings

At 17, I was ready to break free. I packed my bags, bought a one-way ticket to London (UK), and never looked back. It felt like I was giving myself a fresh start, finally living by my own rules. I continued modeling and began transitioning from a horror-inspired style to one of glamour, discovering how liberating it was to take control of my own sexuality and sensuality. It was a powerful, new feeling for me. Times were tough - I worked odd jobs to make ends meat, faced homelessness, heartache, yet still…I felt free and determined.

As my confidence and career grew, so did the criticism and hateful messages. There were moments when harsh words from strangers brought me to tears. Over time, I learned that no matter how perfect, beautiful, or popular you are, there will always be someone who dislikes you. That’s when I adopted the motto: “What other people think of you is none of your business.”

Gradually, my modeling evolved into a message of self-love. I realized that truly happy and confident people don’t bully others, which helped me see the critics in a new light and release any anger I felt toward them.

You Are Not Alone

So, if you’ve ever hated what you saw in the mirror, or felt like your body made you unworthy, know this: you are not alone. There is no rulebook for healing. There’s no timeline. There’s no perfect version of yourself waiting at the finish line. You are worthy now.

Our worth is not up for debate based on weight, scars, health conditions, or how we dress. We are not trends. We are not clickbait. We are not the punchlines of someone else’s insecurities. We are full, radiant, complicated human beings and we are allowed to take up space exactly as we are.

A Final Word (Or Two)

Let’s stop rewarding perfection and start honoring authenticity. Don’t let the noise of society drown out your truth. Don’t shrink to fit anyone’s expectations. Your body is not the most interesting thing about you, but it is yours. It has carried you through your darkest days and still wakes up every morning with the possibility of joy.

That alone is something to honor. So wear what you want. Speak your truth. Take the photo. Take up space.

And remember: you are already enough — not when you change, but right now.

Much love,

K.D

A Story Of Becoming