By ALISSA WARREN
Yesterday, former Miss Australia, Rachael Finch posted a very pregnant nearly-nude selfie. In her undies. In her bedroom. And it’s really got me and my own bump in a bother. You see, we’re due around the same time, Rachael and I, and I’d say this is where our similarities end:
But already, I know too much. I’ve had visual information overload and I’m frowning.
I don’t mind a selfie.
I’ve never selfied myself. But I certainly don’t mind looking at other people‘s selfies. It’s the perfect way to show, well, um, yourself. Hair. Shoes. Make Up. Kids. Drinking milkshakes. Cuddling puppies. Whatever. Go for it.
But for the first time in my selfie-viewing history, I’m feeling a bit cranky. A bit depressed. A bit anxious. A bit disappointed. Rachael Finch in her undies has made me feel like this and I’m trying to work out why.
Help me unpack this, will you?
Pregnancy is a beautiful thing. Sure, there’s no denying there are hundreds of unbeautiful pregnancy experiences – like today, I’m chewing on Mylanta (for heartburn) like it’s my job – but overall, the bad bits are stored away in your memory bank with things like jetlag. A bit sucky but not worth arking up over.