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Other things I lose my mind over: Laika, the Brachiosaurus left behind on the island at the end of Fallen Kingdom, Mars Rover singing to itself, the Angler Fish, Pigeons, Hachiko, The Penguin, The Loneliest Whale, Littlefoot and his mums shadow, Beta Fish, Missing Animal Posters, The Triassic Cuddle, Roadkill, the last the Kauai ‘O’o final song, the two-headed calf…. It’s truly endless. Honestly this world is empath hell. What’s your period-induced crash out? A quick break from political posting in light of the the comments on my other vids. Obviously I’m aware there are bigger issues in the world, hence why my content is 90% about that. Love youuuu 🙆‍♀️
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jess_megan_
Other things I lose my mind over: Laika, the Brachiosaurus left behind on the island at the end of Fallen Kingdom, Mars Rover singing to itself, the Angler Fish, Pigeons, Hachiko, The Penguin, The Loneliest Whale, Littlefoot and his mums shadow, Beta Fish, Missing Animal Posters, The Triassic Cuddle, Roadkill, the last the Kauai ‘O’o final song, the two-headed calf…. It’s truly endless. Honestly this world is empath hell. What’s your period-induced crash out? A quick break from political posting in light of the the comments on my other vids. Obviously I’m aware there are bigger issues in the world, hence why my content is 90% about that. Love youuuu 🙆‍♀️
DID I WIN?! They always make a point of telling me how good of a photo it is which gives me conflicting emoshees #passportphoto
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DID I WIN?! They always make a point of telling me how good of a photo it is which gives me conflicting emoshees #passportphoto
TW: Potentially triggering chat around SA. There’s a lot of pent up rage walking around right now being disguised in different ways. If you tune in for a second you’ll notice it. Your girlfriend is extra loud, your boyfriend is hyper independent, your mother is drinking more. It’s not a coincidence that people are acting up the same time the files are coming out. They’re being pulled back to the time it happened. They’re thinking about the injustice. That fear. Their vulnerability. This thing that happened, we get told all the time “it wasn’t your fault,” when we kind of know that already. The shame, in my opinion, comes from the fact that someone rotten put their hands on you and still to this day gets a rent free room in your head. The worst person in your life changed you without permission. That is a BRUTAL reality to contend with. Trauma can bring us to the ground by the throat and keep us there when we blame ourselves. More so if it was long ago. Whoever hurt us still siphons energy from us they don’t deserve, like fuel from a tank. They still cut a mean shadow in the back of your mind. You’re not overthinking it. But know this: over the last decade, we have been bringing the boot down on their necks. We are making them afraid. That POS who walked away and continued to live a normal life, they’re thinking about it now. Because there’s a lot of us. Statistically (UK) 1 in 4 women, 1 in 6 children and 1 in 18 men have experienced SA since the age of 16. Those numbers are dazzling and DON’T include the 16 years prior OR the amount of times it happens to that one person. You are not alone. We are like a little network of fungi, the roots and lines are glowing bright beneath the ground. The rot is being exposed. Thankyou @khal_essie for posting the original clip and reminding me of this moment in the film “Spotlight.”
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jess_megan_
TW: Potentially triggering chat around SA. There’s a lot of pent up rage walking around right now being disguised in different ways. If you tune in for a second you’ll notice it. Your girlfriend is extra loud, your boyfriend is hyper independent, your mother is drinking more. It’s not a coincidence that people are acting up the same time the files are coming out. They’re being pulled back to the time it happened. They’re thinking about the injustice. That fear. Their vulnerability. This thing that happened, we get told all the time “it wasn’t your fault,” when we kind of know that already. The shame, in my opinion, comes from the fact that someone rotten put their hands on you and still to this day gets a rent free room in your head. The worst person in your life changed you without permission. That is a BRUTAL reality to contend with. Trauma can bring us to the ground by the throat and keep us there when we blame ourselves. More so if it was long ago. Whoever hurt us still siphons energy from us they don’t deserve, like fuel from a tank. They still cut a mean shadow in the back of your mind. You’re not overthinking it. But know this: over the last decade, we have been bringing the boot down on their necks. We are making them afraid. That POS who walked away and continued to live a normal life, they’re thinking about it now. Because there’s a lot of us. Statistically (UK) 1 in 4 women, 1 in 6 children and 1 in 18 men have experienced SA since the age of 16. Those numbers are dazzling and DON’T include the 16 years prior OR the amount of times it happens to that one person. You are not alone. We are like a little network of fungi, the roots and lines are glowing bright beneath the ground. The rot is being exposed. Thankyou @khal_essie for posting the original clip and reminding me of this moment in the film “Spotlight.”
4. “Men are protectors” but he was a police officer. 5. “It’s not that common” but the group chat was 70,000+ You’ll never convince me it’s not that bad. It’s in the air we breathe from the moment we enter the world as women. Ref: 1. Magaluf Hotel Incident 2. Gisèle Pelicot 3. Witton Railway SA 4. Sarah Everard 5. WA Group Chat 70,000 Men exchange tips on how to r*pe women #womensupportingwomen
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jess_megan_
4. “Men are protectors” but he was a police officer. 5. “It’s not that common” but the group chat was 70,000+ You’ll never convince me it’s not that bad. It’s in the air we breathe from the moment we enter the world as women. Ref: 1. Magaluf Hotel Incident 2. Gisèle Pelicot 3. Witton Railway SA 4. Sarah Everard 5. WA Group Chat 70,000 Men exchange tips on how to r*pe women #womensupportingwomen
Being told your favourite person is dead over the phone changes you. Being interviewed by the police while his body lies a flight of stairs away, changes you. Putting the toy raven he got in a museum on the window sill as a reminder he had died, and the dreams aren’t real, changes you. Asking your friends if you can make a WhatsApp Group of everyone you love so they can reassure you they made it through the night, changes you. Being forced into the shower and washed by your own mother for the first time since you were six, changes you. Having your friends wash your feet and legs in a sink tub in the conservatory so you can keep smoking and drinking at midday, changes you. Placing your hand on the chest of every person who has slept in a bed with you since it happened, changes you. Dreaming you are next to him in the ground and have seen every stage of his decay, changes you. His friend’s writing messages of love in sharpie on his coffin changes you. Delivering a letter to his grave as the soil lands changes you. Feeling like you’re losing the job you worked so hard for and love so badly because your body retaliated and shat out half its weight in less than a year + being gone for fucking ages due to being totally insane…. changes you. I’m not going to shrink into the shadows and be beaten by grief. Grief will stand on your neck and keep you there forever if you let it. After acute tragedy strikes, you must actively CHOOSE to live and push onward. The magnitude of the pain is staggering and merciless. All the words of wisdom in the world come up short in the face of it. But I promise this is not the end of you. I will not apologise for experiencing pain that makes me strange. Because one day it’ll be you. And you deserve to be loved and protected fiercely, from those who call you strange. #grief
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Being told your favourite person is dead over the phone changes you. Being interviewed by the police while his body lies a flight of stairs away, changes you. Putting the toy raven he got in a museum on the window sill as a reminder he had died, and the dreams aren’t real, changes you. Asking your friends if you can make a WhatsApp Group of everyone you love so they can reassure you they made it through the night, changes you. Being forced into the shower and washed by your own mother for the first time since you were six, changes you. Having your friends wash your feet and legs in a sink tub in the conservatory so you can keep smoking and drinking at midday, changes you. Placing your hand on the chest of every person who has slept in a bed with you since it happened, changes you. Dreaming you are next to him in the ground and have seen every stage of his decay, changes you. His friend’s writing messages of love in sharpie on his coffin changes you. Delivering a letter to his grave as the soil lands changes you. Feeling like you’re losing the job you worked so hard for and love so badly because your body retaliated and shat out half its weight in less than a year + being gone for fucking ages due to being totally insane…. changes you. I’m not going to shrink into the shadows and be beaten by grief. Grief will stand on your neck and keep you there forever if you let it. After acute tragedy strikes, you must actively CHOOSE to live and push onward. The magnitude of the pain is staggering and merciless. All the words of wisdom in the world come up short in the face of it. But I promise this is not the end of you. I will not apologise for experiencing pain that makes me strange. Because one day it’ll be you. And you deserve to be loved and protected fiercely, from those who call you strange. #grief
Grief is manic and ungracious. I’d never felt so insane. For the first time ever my mind felt like a locked box, with me on the outside. I didn’t know what was going on in my head and I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t do half-measured responses. I was walking to the shop bare-footed in a bathrobe and telling anyone who would listen that my boyfriend was dead. Then I would drink a box of wine and smoke thirty cigarettes until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Grief made me feral. I didn’t sleep, because sleep was the only place I got to see him, experience sweet relief, only to wake up and find out he was gone all over again. I took pictures of myself throughout all of this, to remember, I suppose. To remember how deeply and irrevocably fucked I was, and that if I managed to survive this then I could survive anything. That If the sun ever came out again, I would take full advantage. I didn’t know it then, but that idea was hope. But the sun didn’t come out for a really, really long time. Grief costs a lot. Good health, good judgement, happiness, friends, confidence, self-discipline, hygiene, sleep and time. The list is long. What I want people to know, is that there is a way out. Whatever your situation is. However you’ve been hurt (Grief isn’t exclusive to death). But that way out is not linear. It’s a gruelling obstacle course while everyone else seems to be on a low-level hike. Not everyone who loves you will understand it, some might even leave you. The usual safety precautions and relationships we’ve come to rely on in the past give way and you end up looking like your life like hot Jeff Goldblum looking at that massive pile of shit. But here’s what I want you to know: you’re actually capable of anything. I know it’s dismaying to hear it, when more than anything you just want it to be over. But you are. You’ll do it wrong, you’ll make huge, irresponsible mistakes, you’ll think this is it. Life can’t be good again. But it can be and it will. Just take every day in minutes. I love you, nugget. It’ll be alright. “Hearts can break. Yes, hearts can break. Sometimes I think it would be better if we died when they did, but we don’t.” - Stephen King.
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Grief is manic and ungracious. I’d never felt so insane. For the first time ever my mind felt like a locked box, with me on the outside. I didn’t know what was going on in my head and I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t do half-measured responses. I was walking to the shop bare-footed in a bathrobe and telling anyone who would listen that my boyfriend was dead. Then I would drink a box of wine and smoke thirty cigarettes until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Grief made me feral. I didn’t sleep, because sleep was the only place I got to see him, experience sweet relief, only to wake up and find out he was gone all over again. I took pictures of myself throughout all of this, to remember, I suppose. To remember how deeply and irrevocably fucked I was, and that if I managed to survive this then I could survive anything. That If the sun ever came out again, I would take full advantage. I didn’t know it then, but that idea was hope. But the sun didn’t come out for a really, really long time. Grief costs a lot. Good health, good judgement, happiness, friends, confidence, self-discipline, hygiene, sleep and time. The list is long. What I want people to know, is that there is a way out. Whatever your situation is. However you’ve been hurt (Grief isn’t exclusive to death). But that way out is not linear. It’s a gruelling obstacle course while everyone else seems to be on a low-level hike. Not everyone who loves you will understand it, some might even leave you. The usual safety precautions and relationships we’ve come to rely on in the past give way and you end up looking like your life like hot Jeff Goldblum looking at that massive pile of shit. But here’s what I want you to know: you’re actually capable of anything. I know it’s dismaying to hear it, when more than anything you just want it to be over. But you are. You’ll do it wrong, you’ll make huge, irresponsible mistakes, you’ll think this is it. Life can’t be good again. But it can be and it will. Just take every day in minutes. I love you, nugget. It’ll be alright. “Hearts can break. Yes, hearts can break. Sometimes I think it would be better if we died when they did, but we don’t.” - Stephen King.
I just woke up, what we doin’ 😘 #lookbothwaysandstayhydrated #bodyimage #womensupportingwomen #postpartumbody #pregnancy
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I just woke up, what we doin’ 😘 #lookbothwaysandstayhydrated #bodyimage #womensupportingwomen #postpartumbody #pregnancy
My comment section under this video on TikTok was one of the lowliest and desperate reads of my life. “I wish I had this problem,” “oh no, my lobster is too butter and my steak is too juicy.” I understand it. Thin over everything else. Thin at the cost of living. Thin at the cost of comfort. Thin is editorial, romantic, chic, black and white, contrast, smokey eye, thin fingers, grace. Thin means respect, reward, love. A mentally ill, mascara stained woman with cheekbones is more accepted than one with round red cheeks who binge eats in crisis. Suffering in a fat body was ‘shameful.’ Suffering in a thin one is ‘literature.’ When you’re thin, your frailty is beautiful. It can’t be all that serious because WHO wouldn’t want to be thin? This is the mecca of being a woman. Why would I ever look a gift horse in the mouth? Because this isn’t my body. It never was. This isn’t comfortable. I’m sick all the time. Stomach acid. Fatigue. Insomnia. Constipation. Bone pain. Heart palpitations. Brain fog. Confusion. “Our society rewards beauty on the outside over health on the inside. A thin young woman with precancerous lungs who smokes to stay thin is more highly rewarded socially than a hearty old crone.“ Naomi Wolf. “I wish I had whatever is wrong with you.” But darling, what’s the point of being thin if you’re too sick to live? #bodyimage
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My comment section under this video on TikTok was one of the lowliest and desperate reads of my life. “I wish I had this problem,” “oh no, my lobster is too butter and my steak is too juicy.” I understand it. Thin over everything else. Thin at the cost of living. Thin at the cost of comfort. Thin is editorial, romantic, chic, black and white, contrast, smokey eye, thin fingers, grace. Thin means respect, reward, love. A mentally ill, mascara stained woman with cheekbones is more accepted than one with round red cheeks who binge eats in crisis. Suffering in a fat body was ‘shameful.’ Suffering in a thin one is ‘literature.’ When you’re thin, your frailty is beautiful. It can’t be all that serious because WHO wouldn’t want to be thin? This is the mecca of being a woman. Why would I ever look a gift horse in the mouth? Because this isn’t my body. It never was. This isn’t comfortable. I’m sick all the time. Stomach acid. Fatigue. Insomnia. Constipation. Bone pain. Heart palpitations. Brain fog. Confusion. “Our society rewards beauty on the outside over health on the inside. A thin young woman with precancerous lungs who smokes to stay thin is more highly rewarded socially than a hearty old crone.“ Naomi Wolf. “I wish I had whatever is wrong with you.” But darling, what’s the point of being thin if you’re too sick to live? #bodyimage
Not dead yet bb #hny2026
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Not dead yet bb #hny2026
“Shouldn’t we be worried about our own country,” not if you understand how global politics work AND that we currently have a political party who are taking notes with intention to apply the same blueprint AND are motivated by the same ideologies AND are vying for the top spot with misleading data on immigration #stepitup #uk
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“Shouldn’t we be worried about our own country,” not if you understand how global politics work AND that we currently have a political party who are taking notes with intention to apply the same blueprint AND are motivated by the same ideologies AND are vying for the top spot with misleading data on immigration #stepitup #uk
This trend of wanting to jettison body fat is deeply fucking bizarre to me. Does anyone remember that scene in Pulp Fiction where Fabian talks about Pot Bellies? Whenever I achieve a particularly rotund belly I always think of her (I put a snippet of the script below), because it was so unusual to see anyone talking about squashy stomachs as a coveted desire in 1994. I wore this dress SPECIFICALLY to show you how my body changes throughout the day. What a joy and a privilege it is to have a deliciously round stomach, full of energy and warm to touch. Whether a mere fistful, or enough for a baby or pile of puppies to saddle and fall asleep on. Great ideas and deep sleeps march forward on a full stomach. A good paunch fuels your impact on the world around you; your hunger is in direct correlation to your ability to create and engage. Hunger = anxiety, anger, fatigue. Satiation = ingenuity, resourcefulness, vision. Diet culture forces women to believe there is something romantic about being starved, that being chic means having visible ribs and a famished side profile. It’s wide scale, multi-conglomerate abuse. The feeling of fullness after a meal is one of the greatest feelings in this world. So eat your creamy pasta and oiled bread and grilled vegetables. Let your tummy proudly protrude and hold it while you snooze. I love you 🩷 “A pot. A pot belly…Pot bellies are sexy…a big, perfectly round pot belly…If I had one, I’d tee-shirt two sizes too accentuate it…” “You think men would find that attractive?” “I don’t give a damn what men find attractive.” “If you a pot belly, I’d punch you in it.” “Well, I’d smother you! I’d drop it right on your face ‘til you couldn’t breathe!” 😘 #bodyimage
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This trend of wanting to jettison body fat is deeply fucking bizarre to me. Does anyone remember that scene in Pulp Fiction where Fabian talks about Pot Bellies? Whenever I achieve a particularly rotund belly I always think of her (I put a snippet of the script below), because it was so unusual to see anyone talking about squashy stomachs as a coveted desire in 1994. I wore this dress SPECIFICALLY to show you how my body changes throughout the day. What a joy and a privilege it is to have a deliciously round stomach, full of energy and warm to touch. Whether a mere fistful, or enough for a baby or pile of puppies to saddle and fall asleep on. Great ideas and deep sleeps march forward on a full stomach. A good paunch fuels your impact on the world around you; your hunger is in direct correlation to your ability to create and engage. Hunger = anxiety, anger, fatigue. Satiation = ingenuity, resourcefulness, vision. Diet culture forces women to believe there is something romantic about being starved, that being chic means having visible ribs and a famished side profile. It’s wide scale, multi-conglomerate abuse. The feeling of fullness after a meal is one of the greatest feelings in this world. So eat your creamy pasta and oiled bread and grilled vegetables. Let your tummy proudly protrude and hold it while you snooze. I love you 🩷 “A pot. A pot belly…Pot bellies are sexy…a big, perfectly round pot belly…If I had one, I’d tee-shirt two sizes too accentuate it…” “You think men would find that attractive?” “I don’t give a damn what men find attractive.” “If you a pot belly, I’d punch you in it.” “Well, I’d smother you! I’d drop it right on your face ‘til you couldn’t breathe!” 😘 #bodyimage
Honestly leave it to a man to irreversibly traumatise me to an early grave #smh
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Honestly leave it to a man to irreversibly traumatise me to an early grave #smh
Thankyou so much for all your messages. My heart is full. I know the world seems like a shit show on fire, but humanity is still worth fighting for. Video of Wesley: TT - kellylynne301 Edit Credit: TT - marsonfilmaep #grief #loss #love #justiceforwesley
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Thankyou so much for all your messages. My heart is full. I know the world seems like a shit show on fire, but humanity is still worth fighting for. Video of Wesley: TT - kellylynne301 Edit Credit: TT - marsonfilmaep #grief #loss #love #justiceforwesley
I spoke about how I’ve been dealing with an illness that carries symptoms of fatigue, abdominal pain, cramps, blood and massive weight loss. It began early 2025 and I’ve had tests on tests and am waiting for a colonoscopy and other results. Doctor says it could be anything but so far we only have IBS as a possible diagnosis. I really didn’t want to return to work until I had it figured out, because obviously a bunch of what I talk about revolves around being confident in a body that falls outside of our stringent body standards. Even though I don’t owe anyone a certain look, I can’t help but feel sorry about it. Because in this timeline, we need good body positive energy more than ever. But my body has been through a lot the last few years. Grief, alcoholism, depression and addiction absolutely mangled a lot of the good work I have done in cultivating a happy body. All I can do is keep advocating for it in the hunt for answers, so I can take care of its needs and move forward with a much happier bod. That is self-love. Standing up for your body. The thing that takes you through life. “Wabi-sabi (侘寂) is a Japanese worldview centred on finding beauty in impermanence and incompleteness, embracing flaws, age and natural processes rather than striving for artificial perfection.” This is what living is about. It’s what having a body that stretches and shrinks and struggles is about. The mind and body are codependent. Thanks for being here my Wabi Sabi friends ❤️ #wabisabi #bodyimage #healing
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I spoke about how I’ve been dealing with an illness that carries symptoms of fatigue, abdominal pain, cramps, blood and massive weight loss. It began early 2025 and I’ve had tests on tests and am waiting for a colonoscopy and other results. Doctor says it could be anything but so far we only have IBS as a possible diagnosis. I really didn’t want to return to work until I had it figured out, because obviously a bunch of what I talk about revolves around being confident in a body that falls outside of our stringent body standards. Even though I don’t owe anyone a certain look, I can’t help but feel sorry about it. Because in this timeline, we need good body positive energy more than ever. But my body has been through a lot the last few years. Grief, alcoholism, depression and addiction absolutely mangled a lot of the good work I have done in cultivating a happy body. All I can do is keep advocating for it in the hunt for answers, so I can take care of its needs and move forward with a much happier bod. That is self-love. Standing up for your body. The thing that takes you through life. “Wabi-sabi (侘寂) is a Japanese worldview centred on finding beauty in impermanence and incompleteness, embracing flaws, age and natural processes rather than striving for artificial perfection.” This is what living is about. It’s what having a body that stretches and shrinks and struggles is about. The mind and body are codependent. Thanks for being here my Wabi Sabi friends ❤️ #wabisabi #bodyimage #healing
This video hit 20million views over on TikTok and it’s had me thinking about the rollercoaster I’ve been on. Getting sick and losing weight truly had me thinking what I had to say wouldn’t be of service to people anymore. But actually if anything, my message has never been more pronounced than it is now. • Loving a healthy body is far easier than loving a sick one And • Advocating for the brilliance of the human body is easy; until the one that belongs to your favourite person suddenly stops working in the night. This body, the one you’re looking down at in all its endearing charm, is something you have for an unknown time. One day, you don’t know when, it will stop working. All of it. Your heart, your ability to kiss and dance will be gone. Don’t waste time brutalising it, bullying it and so forth. In the grand cosmos of time, we will take a final breath. It could be tomorrow or in fifty years. The latter may seem like a long time, but it will happen so fast. It didn’t take long to get here, it won’t take long to get there either. Don’t panic, just don’t waste anymore time hating yourself based on subjective opinions generated by board meetings full of old, rich men. Go forth and say “fuck you” to anyone who demands your restriction for their own comfortability. If you have no other incentive to love your body, mortality is an effective motivator. It’s not romantic, or congenial. It’s factual. We are going to die and we don’t have time. Make the best of it. I love you and it’s going to be okay ✨ #BodyImagefortheExistentialist #bodyimage #womensupportingwomen
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This video hit 20million views over on TikTok and it’s had me thinking about the rollercoaster I’ve been on. Getting sick and losing weight truly had me thinking what I had to say wouldn’t be of service to people anymore. But actually if anything, my message has never been more pronounced than it is now. • Loving a healthy body is far easier than loving a sick one And • Advocating for the brilliance of the human body is easy; until the one that belongs to your favourite person suddenly stops working in the night. This body, the one you’re looking down at in all its endearing charm, is something you have for an unknown time. One day, you don’t know when, it will stop working. All of it. Your heart, your ability to kiss and dance will be gone. Don’t waste time brutalising it, bullying it and so forth. In the grand cosmos of time, we will take a final breath. It could be tomorrow or in fifty years. The latter may seem like a long time, but it will happen so fast. It didn’t take long to get here, it won’t take long to get there either. Don’t panic, just don’t waste anymore time hating yourself based on subjective opinions generated by board meetings full of old, rich men. Go forth and say “fuck you” to anyone who demands your restriction for their own comfortability. If you have no other incentive to love your body, mortality is an effective motivator. It’s not romantic, or congenial. It’s factual. We are going to die and we don’t have time. Make the best of it. I love you and it’s going to be okay ✨ #BodyImagefortheExistentialist #bodyimage #womensupportingwomen
After just under four years of absence, I didn’t know what kind of reception to expect and sort of resigned myself to tumbleweeds. Like it would be amazing for people to still give a shit when I go back to work, but people have lives and the world moves forward. That first reel I posted was hugely nerve wracking. One time I walked into a red carpet in front of a crowd of paps who fell silent and only one lifted their camera 😭😭😭😂😂 i was convinced this would absolutely be that all over again 🥲 thankyou thankyou thankyou for having me back PS. If you haven’t seen The Holiday, this scene is about Arthur Abbott, who refuses to attend an event held in his honour because he’s embarrassed no one will show up. His reaction is my reaction. Thankyou for holding my hand ❤️
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jess_megan_
After just under four years of absence, I didn’t know what kind of reception to expect and sort of resigned myself to tumbleweeds. Like it would be amazing for people to still give a shit when I go back to work, but people have lives and the world moves forward. That first reel I posted was hugely nerve wracking. One time I walked into a red carpet in front of a crowd of paps who fell silent and only one lifted their camera 😭😭😭😂😂 i was convinced this would absolutely be that all over again 🥲 thankyou thankyou thankyou for having me back PS. If you haven’t seen The Holiday, this scene is about Arthur Abbott, who refuses to attend an event held in his honour because he’s embarrassed no one will show up. His reaction is my reaction. Thankyou for holding my hand ❤️
I’ve been struggling enormously with my body, because this is the body of a person who experienced deep anguish and heartbreak. This is the body of a frenzied and sick girl, who had given up on life. I am still living in the hangover of that era. It’s discombobulating to look in the mirror now. Even editing videos of myself from before and now, as I did here, was a disorienting thing. It’s like I’m looking at two different people. I miss myself. I believed I had learnt everything there was to learn about my body, but, surprisingly, it’s nowhere near over for me. The relationship you share with your body is the most intimate you will ever experience. Every roll and scar, every stretch mark, every tattoo, every wrinkle, is a mark on the map, A flag in the ground A crop of land nourished by you A life you have made for yourself A fleshy notebook, the pencil presses into the very first page, leaving indentations on the page beneath. And so it goes on and on until you become a gorgeous human scrapbook of trials, adventures and memories. Your body is the herald to a life richly lived. Those experiences won’t be defined only to good times. The body holds onto all of it. The stretch marks from when you lost weight after someone you love dies. The scars from where the blade cut because of a terrifying memory of childhood, a traumatic birth, dark bags beneath the eyes. The pinching of skin, the biting of fingers. It’s all there, it’s all you. Even if you wish it wasn’t. Because you’re a thing of nature, not plastic. “The heart is ancient and hasn’t had any updates,” (@darby_hudson ) Self love and acceptance is extremely radical for a reason, it requires you and your body looking at one another and blocking out the shrill beauty standards ingrained into you from the very start. It means accepting all of you, not necessarily with fervour, but with grace. Because even if you can’t see it, there is so, so, so much good in you. I am proud of you. I love you. #lookbothwaysandstayhydrated Song is @tessaviolet “My Body is My Buddy” ❤️
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jess_megan_
I’ve been struggling enormously with my body, because this is the body of a person who experienced deep anguish and heartbreak. This is the body of a frenzied and sick girl, who had given up on life. I am still living in the hangover of that era. It’s discombobulating to look in the mirror now. Even editing videos of myself from before and now, as I did here, was a disorienting thing. It’s like I’m looking at two different people. I miss myself. I believed I had learnt everything there was to learn about my body, but, surprisingly, it’s nowhere near over for me. The relationship you share with your body is the most intimate you will ever experience. Every roll and scar, every stretch mark, every tattoo, every wrinkle, is a mark on the map, A flag in the ground A crop of land nourished by you A life you have made for yourself A fleshy notebook, the pencil presses into the very first page, leaving indentations on the page beneath. And so it goes on and on until you become a gorgeous human scrapbook of trials, adventures and memories. Your body is the herald to a life richly lived. Those experiences won’t be defined only to good times. The body holds onto all of it. The stretch marks from when you lost weight after someone you love dies. The scars from where the blade cut because of a terrifying memory of childhood, a traumatic birth, dark bags beneath the eyes. The pinching of skin, the biting of fingers. It’s all there, it’s all you. Even if you wish it wasn’t. Because you’re a thing of nature, not plastic. “The heart is ancient and hasn’t had any updates,” (@darby_hudson ) Self love and acceptance is extremely radical for a reason, it requires you and your body looking at one another and blocking out the shrill beauty standards ingrained into you from the very start. It means accepting all of you, not necessarily with fervour, but with grace. Because even if you can’t see it, there is so, so, so much good in you. I am proud of you. I love you. #lookbothwaysandstayhydrated Song is @tessaviolet “My Body is My Buddy” ❤️
When people die, we say “they’re not there anymore. It’s just the vessel. The soul has gone. It’s not really us.” The ship at the bottom of a dark ocean. The coral reef with no fish. The endless night sky, void of stars. The body, empty of its owner. Still, breathless, grey. Vacant of its beloved soul; its favourite thing in the world. The soul it served and adored for the entirety of its existence. The one it was made to protect and carry for its one and only life. You. You are the North Star to your body. You are revered by it. Adored by it. When the soul has left its body, there will be no more time for drinking spritz on a balcony during golden hour. There will be no more time to plan trips for late night ice cream. There will be no more time to take it for fresh mountain walks. Or being on floors with happy dogs. So while it’s not the end for you, please, take notice of your body. It is your centre. Your vessel, your biggest fan. Wherever you choose to go, it will take you. It is your biological chauffeur and most loyal friend. Make the most of it. Know it. Love it. I love you. ❤️ #bodyimagemovement #body #bodycare #womensupportingwomen
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jess_megan_
When people die, we say “they’re not there anymore. It’s just the vessel. The soul has gone. It’s not really us.” The ship at the bottom of a dark ocean. The coral reef with no fish. The endless night sky, void of stars. The body, empty of its owner. Still, breathless, grey. Vacant of its beloved soul; its favourite thing in the world. The soul it served and adored for the entirety of its existence. The one it was made to protect and carry for its one and only life. You. You are the North Star to your body. You are revered by it. Adored by it. When the soul has left its body, there will be no more time for drinking spritz on a balcony during golden hour. There will be no more time to plan trips for late night ice cream. There will be no more time to take it for fresh mountain walks. Or being on floors with happy dogs. So while it’s not the end for you, please, take notice of your body. It is your centre. Your vessel, your biggest fan. Wherever you choose to go, it will take you. It is your biological chauffeur and most loyal friend. Make the most of it. Know it. Love it. I love you. ❤️ #bodyimagemovement #body #bodycare #womensupportingwomen
My best friend was diagnosed with cancer so I had to take the time to do all the things that come with that, like (practically) sleeping in the car to turn up for early appointments, bed changes, administrative duties/medication and crying together at 2am. But he was one of the lucky ones. I rushed off for a weekend of watching my other best friend marry the love of her life. How lucky I am to get to love and support so many of the greatest people in the world. Fuck Cancer. Long live love ❤️
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jess_megan_
My best friend was diagnosed with cancer so I had to take the time to do all the things that come with that, like (practically) sleeping in the car to turn up for early appointments, bed changes, administrative duties/medication and crying together at 2am. But he was one of the lucky ones. I rushed off for a weekend of watching my other best friend marry the love of her life. How lucky I am to get to love and support so many of the greatest people in the world. Fuck Cancer. Long live love ❤️
I want a Matriarchy. Animation is “Good Hunting” from Love, Death & Robots. Song is @korn_official “Freak On A Leash” #iwd #internationalwomensday
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jess_megan_
I want a Matriarchy. Animation is “Good Hunting” from Love, Death & Robots. Song is @korn_official “Freak On A Leash” #iwd #internationalwomensday

Jessica Megan (@jess_megan_) Instagram Stats & Analytics

Jessica Megan (@jess_megan_) has 406K Instagram followers with a 5.29% engagement rate over the past 12 months. Across 30.0 posts, Jessica Megan received 809K total likes and 15.3M impressions, averaging 27.0K likes per post. This page tracks Jessica Megan's performance metrics, top content, and engagement trends — updated daily.

Jessica Megan (@jess_megan_) Instagram Analytics FAQ

How many Instagram followers does Jessica Megan have?+
Jessica Megan (@jess_megan_) has 406K Instagram followers as of September 2026.
What is Jessica Megan's Instagram engagement rate?+
Jessica Megan's Instagram engagement rate is 5.29% over the last 12 months, based on 30.0 posts.
How many likes does Jessica Megan get on Instagram?+
Jessica Megan received 809K total likes across 30.0 posts in the last 12 months, averaging 27.0K likes per post.
How many Instagram impressions does Jessica Megan get?+
Jessica Megan's Instagram content generated 15.3M total impressions over the last 12 months.