I had lost ninety pounds, and that was something that warranted pride and happiness. Maybe I couldn't prance around in a slinky two-piece, but so what? It's not breasts or abs that ultimately make me sexy, it's the voice I choose to listen to. And that day, as I walked out of the store, it was the voice of my best friend.
"So, what, you're not perfect? Who is?" Pamela said. "Don't let a piece of clothing determine how sexy you feel. That job belongs to you."
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Two months later, around three o'clock in the morning on June 18th, I checked into a quiet hotel in Florida with my new husband and had sex for the first time. I knew it would feel weird and uncomfortable as a virgin, but as I picked up my panties off the floor the next morning, I felt satisfied. I may not be Halle Berry, but with the help of a glass of good wine and the realization of my imperfect beauty, the sex was breathtaking, literally.
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At 19, I had thought being thin would solve everything. I'd get a boyfriend, shop at trendy stores and wear whatever I wanted. But these were not the things that changed my life. As a size eight I could still feel insecure about my belly—or about a host of other things. Confidence and finding my inner sexy is what changed me.