Emily Ratajkowski: Baby Woman

She is the Hollywood “it” girl with the gorgeous eyes and a body to make you swoon, but there is more to Emily Ratajkowski than meets the eye.

In a reflective blog post, the actress and model shares how her sexuality has defined her life, making some pretty fabulous remarks about the treatment of young women arriving in hormonal territory.

Ratajkowski is best known as the half-naked cavorting star of Robin Thicke’s steamy Blurred Lines video, or as the secret sexy girlfriend of Hollywood heavyweight Ben Affleck in Gone Girl.

The 26-year-old’s body has been featured on billboards and her cleavage on magazine covers. She has been modeling since the age of 15, often exposed and leaving very little to the imagination.

Is she judged by the way she looks? Abso-f*king-lutely.

Is she seen as a role model for teenage girls? Abso-f*king-lutely-not!

This is tragedy, really, because believe it or not, this girl is as a-la-nat-ur-al as they come in Hollywood.

She is beautiful and successful. Confident and happy. Sexual and poised.

After reading her blog post and looking back to the past of my own sexual-confucius, Ratajkowski is most-definitely a fabulous role model for teenage girls, but in her own “good-girl” sort of way.

In her own words, Ratajkowski describes growing up with the nickname “baby woman”, because she was a 12-year-old with D-cup breasts who would wake up in the night and ask her mum to sleep in her bed.

She talks about teachers pointing their fingers at her womanly form, looking down at the young girl who wore a bra, and how if caught wearing a mini-skirt her attire would be deemed too sexually explicit, simply because of her features. Others, who were not as “developed”, would assumably be left alone.

“I was modelling only occasionally at that time, but I found the same people who faulted the modelling industry for being oppressive and sexist were frequently missing entirely their own missteps and faux pas. Their comments felt much more personal and thus landed that much harder,” Ratajkowski wrote.

“I was still figuring out how to put a tampon in, never mind how to understand some of the more complicated aspects of womanhood, and all these kinds of interactions made me feel like I was missing something about the world.

“Even now, as an adult, I think of my thong popping out of my low-rise jeans in class and of my neophyte attempts with eye make-up and wonder, Wow, should someone have forced me to wear something else?

And that’s the question we as women need to think very hard about. We are so quick to judge these days and clothing choice is certainly one of the first things we frown at “” especially for young women.

I, myself was one of these young women who developed earlier than her classmates. My period arrived at the age of 11, alongside my breasts and hips. I remember being told at a friend’s birthday party to put a cardigan over my tank top because you could see my bra straps, and to wear a one-piece instead of a two-piece at the swimming carnival.

I remember being sexualised even though I didn’t feel sexual. I remember feeling confused and anxious at the sight of my own body compared to my friend’s, not because they were making me feel so, but the adults who were supposed to be my mentors were. They sexualised my young body way before I even thought about being sexual myself.

This memory flooded back just the other day, when I was walking behind a group of young girls on their way to the surf. They wore bikinis that barely covered their butt cheeks yet strolled confidently to the beach with their surfboards tucked under their arms.

One of the girl’s dads caught up with them and noticed me trailing behind with my pram, so he stopped and walked next to me (he was a friend of my husband’s). He then said something that first struck me as odd but later smacked me in the face like a wet fish.

He said, “She told me she had to have those bikinis this morning because her ass is her best asset. I told her she could have them as long as she always tells me where she is and who she is with. I trust her and I like her confident nature. Hopefully she remains this confident forever.”

This girl was not being sexual. She was not trying to draw the boys’ attention. She was just being comfortable in her own skin.

In her post, Ratajkowski explains this “feeling” as living in a world of shame and silent apologies.

“I see my naked body in the mirrors of all the places I’ve lived, privately dressing, going through my morning routine. I look at my reflection and meet my own eyes. I hear the voices reminding me not to send the wrong message,” she wrote.

“And what is that message exactly? The implication is that to be sexual is to be trashy because being sexy means playing into men’s desires. To me, “sexy” is a kind of beauty, a kind of self-expression, one that is to be celebrated, one that is wonderfully female.”

“Why does the implication have to be that sex is a thing men get to take from women and women give up? Most adolescent women are introduced to “sexy” women through porn or photoshopped images of celebrities. Is that the only example of a sexual woman we will provide to the young women of our culture?”

“Where can girls look to see women who find empowerment in deciding when and how to be or feel sexual? Even if being sexualised by society’s gaze is demeaning, there must be a space where women can still be sexual when they choose to be.”

Think about it. Sexuality is one thing. Sexualising is another. Don’t sexualise young girls for nature’s gifts and beauty.

Be like the cool dad on the way to the surf whose daughter knows who she is and has confidence, which is obviously backed up and supported by the people who will influence her the most: her parents.