If someone had told me how much you have to have your photo taken as a journalist, I genuinely might have considered another career. It’s not that I don’t like having my photo taken, I don’t care really, it’s just that you have no control over what photo gets used – and what photo is put on the internet to be looked at by absolutely anyone who Googles you, in perpetuity.

Anyway I Google-imaged myself the other night because both children freakishly were asleep by 7.30pm so the evening stretched on rather and I found myself doing it. And I was a bit traumatised by what I found and like all things I find traumatising, I need to share them.

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I was pregnant with Sam in this photo (above) but they didn’t want to show that, because it would confuse the piece, which was a about something else. So had to hold something in front of my stomach and pretend I wasn’t pregnant, just fat. And I hate my make-up here, and my hair. I just hate everything about this picture.

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This was taken in the green room at the Ham & High literary festival and then posted online. Thanks guys! I’d just had Sam. Or maybe Sam was a year old, who knows? But I look like shit. Probably because I’d been up since 5am.

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Also pregnant with Sam, here. And suffering from some weird facial redness thing around my nose. And dirty hair? Who knows. Grim.

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I do love this photographer, Juliette, but why didn’t I put any make-up on for this shoot? Also: I must never get this haircut again.

Photo on 15-12-2015 at 20.51 #6

This is what I really look like!!! No make-up selfie!! Which explains chin-to-fist… (zit).