I’m love my plus measurement physique. How dare you assume I detest how I look

‘Your mind is a dark, disturbing graveyard,’ the woman intoned in a theatrical whisper. ‘You despise your body and what you see in the mirror.’

It was a Friday afternoon and I was sitting in a room with three other female journalists having my ‘soul read’ by a psychic named Sharon.

I’d listened to the readings for my colleagues and, funnily enough, body image had not been mentioned once. But one quick scan of my body and Sharon’s ‘reading’ was decided: I was a size 16 (two to three sizes bigger than the other women in the room) so of course I must hate my body.

Sharon wasn’t psychic, of course — she was cold-reading me, making a high-probability guess based on the facts in front of her. And, to be honest, it was a fair guess.

Writer Catriona Innes says she’s happy and confident in her body and her dress size

Bridgerton star Nicola Coughlan as Penelope Featherington in series 3 of the hit Netflix show

Women in the UK have some of the lowest body-confidence levels in the world, with 61 per cent of adults claiming to feel negative about their body image most of the time, according to a recent survey.

As for the ‘ideal’ dress size? A YouGov study found nearly two-thirds of us think the ‘perfect’ size is a 12. Throughout my lifetime as a size 16 to 18 woman, the messaging has been clear: if you’re a size 16 or above, you must hate your body and be stuck in a cycle of dieting and self-loathing.

That has not been my experience. At 38, I have a healthy body image. I’m not high-fiving myself in the mirror daily, but I’m finally happy with how I look. I don’t waste hours agonising over my size, wishing I was slimmer.

I have sex with the light on, I’ll go skinny-dipping with strangers, and I wear clothes based on what I want to wear, rather than what will make me look ‘thinner’.

Yet that doesn’t stop people from assuming I must really loathe my looks. So I am thrilled to see Bridgerton’s leading lady, Nicola Coughlan, fight back against the assumptions people make about her self-image.

Part two of the current season of the hit Netflix show — rumoured to include the sauciest scenes yet — is released today, amid criticism about Nicola’s looks since the first episodes launched last month. A cruel article in The Spectator attracted a storm of controversy for stating that the idea of a ‘fat girl who wins the prince’ was not ‘plausible’.

And last week a video emerged of a journalist calling Nicola ‘very brave’ to play Penelope Featherington. Quick as a flash, she replied: ‘It is hard because I think women with my body type — women with perfect breasts — we don’t get to see ourselves on screen enough.’

I could have stood up and cheered. It’s not the first time she has fought stereotypes about her body with humour.

‘I’m in disbelief that I’m the leading lady in a romance show,’ the 37-year-old told Harper’s Bazaar. ‘And it’s not because I find myself hideous, as some people have assumed when I say that (I’ll have you know, in the right lighting, I’m a solid seven).’

Catriona says so often plus-size women are portrayed only as the sidekick or the punchline to a joke so it’s refreshing to see Penelope as the love interest of Colin, played by Luke Newton

In the past, Nicola has had to ask fans to stop commenting on her figure, saying on Instagram: ‘If you have an opinion about my body please, please don’t share it with me.’

 She goes on in her Harper’s Bazaar piece to say she’s constantly asked about her body, instead of her work. This sends the message that she shouldn’t like her body.

Our culture dictates that those who do not fit into the Hollywood cookie-cutter mould should be pitied. But while her dress size is her business alone, I am delighted to see someone with a soft, curvy shape take centre stage as the romantic heroine of one of the biggest shows of the summer.

Nicola herself has described her sex scenes as ‘amazingly empowering’, adding: ‘It just felt like the biggest “f*** you” to all the conversation surrounding my body.’

Because so often on film and TV, bodies portrayed as ‘worthy’ of sex and romance are either super slim or almost impossibly curvy, with flat stomachs yet round bums and large breasts.

There have been few depictions of the glorious diversity in women’s bodies, and so often plus-size women are portrayed only as the sidekick or, worse, the punchline to a joke.

These depictions matter. The only times I have hated my body are when other people decide I must do. Like the time I ran a half-marathon and so many people told me how ‘great’ it would be as I’d ‘lose heaps of weight’.

My size was not the reason I signed up, yet because I had not shed a single pound after months of training, I felt deflated as I ran across the finish line.

Another time, when I did lose some weight, a colleague came up to me and said: ‘Make sure you keep going with whatever diet you’re on.’ When I took three months off drinking, there were comments ranging from ‘Is it a diet thing?’ to ‘Yeah, there is a lot of sugar in wine’.

Personal trainers almost always ask if I’m interested in hearing about fat loss when I’ve embarked on a new programme. Hmm, perhaps I’m just keen to improve my fitness and feel stronger?

Even simply telling someone my size can elicit comments, such as, ‘Oh, but you don’t look a size 16/18’ — an innocent yet insulting remark that implies a) by mentioning my metrics, I was being cruel to myself and therefore need a ‘compliment’, and b) that a size 16/18 is something no one wants to be.

People are rarely directly cruel, it’s just that their assumptions imply plus-size women should want to be thinner, which often, in turn, makes us want to be thinner.

Of course, every one of us has a unique relationship to our own body and, unfortunately, it’s often a negative one. As such, the remarks people make often have less to do with what they see in others than what they see, or dislike, in themselves.

Thinner friends of mine say they have faced the opposite assumption — that because they’re slim, they must be happy with themselves and have ‘nothing to complain about’. If they want to open up about how they feel, they’re shot down.

All I want people to understand is that it’s not as simple as: size 8 = self-love, and size 16 = self-loathing. I’ve had to work hard at my own levels of body confidence. And a big part of that has involved reminding myself, like Nicola, that I am more than my outward appearance; I’m good at my job and I have friends, family and a husband who love me very much.

I feel more confident as each year goes by, despite slipping even further away from what society tells me is beautiful.

This has also changed how I am viewed — I haven’t had an insulting comment about my appearance in a while. I like to think this is down to my growing confidence , but it could be because I’m reaching an age where society assumes I no longer care about my looks, since women turn almost invisible as they age.

Could you tackle ageism next please, Netflix?