The Label I Never Wanted (And the Photoshoot That Changed Everything)
- Erin Alexander
- Jul 24
- 4 min read
"Pretty."
It’s a word that has followed me my entire life. I’ve heard it whispered by relatives, offered up by friends, and declared by strangers. And for as long as I can remember, it has landed on me with a thud—a label that never quite fit, a costume I couldn't wait to take off.
The discomfort was never about vanity. It was about a fundamental disconnect. Because the woman I’ve always known myself to be is something else entirely: she’s pensive and open-minded. She's grounded yet mysterious. She is, and has always been, relentlessly adventurous. These are the pillars of my identity, the bedrock I was built on long before anyone offered an opinion on the architecture.
My body and I have had a complicated relationship. I’ve never been one for a lot of makeup, and my figure has shifted through seasons of weight gain and loss. Some of those changes were the result of conscious choices—times I simply let go of discipline. Others were medical curveballs that demanded my full attention and commitment to manage. Through it all, I eventually found a truce: a healthy lifestyle built not on aesthetics, but on respect for the vessel I inhabit. It’s a pact I honor with good food, consistent movement, and a fierce dedication to my mental and cognitive well-being.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve worked hard to close the gap between who I am on the inside and the world’s expectations of what a woman should look like on the outside. Today, I can honestly say I feel comfortable in my own skin, unburdened by judgment.
But the real shift—the earth-shattering click of everything falling into place—happened on the cusp of my 50th birthday.
I walked into a boudoir photo session, expecting vulnerability, maybe even a little awkwardness. What I didn’t expect was a revelation. As I watched the photographer work, something shifted. For the very first time, looking at the images appearing on the camera's small screen, I didn't just hear that I was pretty. I saw it. I felt it.
This wasn't about vanity. It was about alignment. The woman in those photographs wasn’t a stranger wearing a pretty mask. She was me. In her thoughtful gaze, I saw my pensive nature. In her relaxed posture, my groundedness. In the hint of a smile, my adventurous spirit and enigmatic allure. The photos weren't just capturing my body; they were capturing my soul as it liv
ed in my skin.
My story is centered on the word 'pretty,' but the truth is, we all have labels that are handed to us. And this experience isn’t exclusive to women.
Men are constantly squeezed into their own set of boxes: “the strong one,” “the provider,” “the funny guy,” “the tough one.” These labels can become cages, leaving little room for vulnerability, grace, or the simple freedom of being seen as beautiful. Society has long made it taboo for a man to take ownership of his own beauty, to find pleasure in his own physicality outside the context of pure performance. But seeing and appreciating your own form isn't an act of vanity; it's an act of profound self-possession. For a man to stand in front of a camera—or even just a mirror—and allow himself to be seen without a shield is a radical act of strength.
The specific word doesn't matter. What matters is the feeling of being seen for only one dimension of your complex, fascinating self.
From my professional standpoint as a sexologist, I can tell you this journey is central to our well-being. So much of our lives, we are subjected to the gaze of others. We consciously or unconsciously perform for it, conform to it, or rebel against it. The true work is in reclaiming that gaze for yourself. When you can look at your own body with acceptance and appreciation, you move from being an object of others’ perception to the subject of your own life. This process of embodiment—of feeling truly at home in your skin—is one of the most powerful gateways to sexual confidence and authentic expression.
That photoshoot was my turning point. It was a conscious decision to see myself fully, and the reward was an integration I had been craving my entire life. For anyone, man or woman, feeling that same disconnect I described, I cannot recommend the experience enough. It is a deliberate, powerful, and surprisingly healing act of taking back your own image.
The ultimate goal is to find that space where you can let the labels fall away and allow your outside to be an honest reflection of your inside. While for me, the camera was the perfect tool, the spirit of that reclamation can be found in many places—a dance class, a martial art, or the loving gaze of a trusted partner. Find your space, and I promise, you won't just see yourself differently. You'll see a whole new world of possibilities open up.
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