There’s this saying “don’t judge a book by its cover” – but honestly, we all do. I’m not even going to try to exclude myself. I judge everything and everyone (except for friends, of course). And I really should know better.

Let me judge my “cover” for you: I’m tiny, very curvy – and I look even curvier because I’m that tiny. 80% of the time you’ll see me wearing a buttoned-up blouse, or at least a polo. 99% of the time I’ll wear a skirt pulled up to my waist. To top that off, I even had a one-year-phase in which I wore some kind of bow every single day. If this was a cliché teen magazine quiz and I would have to describe my style in three words I would say put together, preppy and a little conservative; or, with three different words, innocent little schoolgirl. I’ve had people tell me that before they talked to me (or, well, had sex with me) they thought I was a chaste virgin, too stuck-up to ever smoke or do drugs and that kind of girl that’s wasted after one sip of a screwdriver. The whole picture changes after you get to know me. If you have absolutely idea what I’m talking about right now, I’d suggest you do that now. In short: I’m not quite the innocent, untouched little girl I might appear to be. There are some hints that might give me away, like my piercings, tattoos, the cigarette in my hand and especially my red hair. But all in all I come off as the sweet, little girl your parents are happy you’re “friends” with.

But why is that? When my schoolgirl phase started I actually was pretty innocent so it wasn’t like I tried to compensate anything with the way I dressed and I definitely didn’t keep my blouses on just to do so when I changed to…well, what I’m today. I don’t want this to sound like the average feel-confident-women’s-magazine-statement but I guess you just have to be comfortable with what you wear and boy, do I feel comfortable. It’s absolutely okay with me that people think I’m a virgin keeping herself for marriage. And if guys think they’d never get to touch me because I’m too stuck up with my bowties and colourful tights, that’s not a problem for me either.

Ha! They don’t know what they’re missing! Back in the days it bothered me so much when people told me I was cute. I hated that word like nothing else. What is cute? That doesn’t quite mean hideous but definitely unfuckable. Now I don’t care anymore. Whether your first impression of me is boring good girl or notorious slut doesn’t matter to me. How I look is very different to how I am as a person but even though I never exactly planned it, I like how it turned out. I like that I’m a (walking, talking, fucking) contradiction. It’s fun to realize people are in shock when I’m too forward or honest because no one really expects it. I guess that’s what you call a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And who doesn’t like a little fluffy with a little untameable on the side. It took me a while to realize that but now I couldn’t be happier to already have a collection of houndstooth-printed attire in my wardrobe.

Do I play with, and exaggerate those extremes? Probably. Since I have an obvious problem with power distribution (at least when it comes to the guys I date) I like that you never really know with me. Am I a confident slut in disguise or a good girl trying to compensate with an extremely open behaviour? Because of that ambiguity I’ll always feel that I am on the more powerful side, especially because I seem to lay all the cards on the table anyways. But is a girl wearing a pastel blue tweed jacket even capable of doing so? They might never know – while I always will.

So please, go on and judge a book by its cover. I won’t ever stop either. Because like that you just might be a lot more surprised by what’s actually inside. Judge a book by its cover all you want but give it a chance anyway! With other words, don’t throw away the book because the cover doesn’t really speak to you. Maybe it will lead to good sex or interesting conversations…whatever comes first.