I AM a human who posts things on the internet; therefore, it goes without saying that I get called “ugly” by strangers daily.

It’s sometimes by men who really don’t take their selfies from a flattering angle. Other times it’s a beautiful woman who slides into my DMs to inform me that I could really “glow up and slim down” if I buy a tea from her that’ll make me poop violently. She never phrases it like that, but I know her game. I can assure you, Michelles and Sarah Janes of Facebook, I need no help in the toilet. I’m lactose intolerant and have a fondness for cheese, I’ve got pooping nailed.

I’ve been “ugly” my whole adult life, but people don’t like me using that word, it makes them sad – so let me utilise some phraseology from the much-beloved band TLC: I’ve been Unpretty my whole adult life. When I hit puberty and grew to almost six foot, and developed my trademark ball-head, it became a bit of a fun game for the boys in my area to ask me out on a dare. I’d watched a great many films about how handsome boys would look past my unpretty face to see my inner beauty and fantastic hip-hop dance skills so I would say yes to their request. My slightly enlarged heart filled full of hope, and then they would laugh, and I would utilise my large body by running at them and knocking them over. Like a one-woman Pamplona bull run.

I tell you these things not in a bid to seek sympathy, because there’s an army of us who feel we’ll never live up to the beauty expectations of society… and we are right, some of us will never be beautiful enough; we will never be perfect enough. So I think we should all stop worrying about it.

I’m furious at how much time I’ve spent trying to learn to contour my face, in the hopes of tricking people into thinking I don’t have a moon-head. The DAYS spent crying in front of a mirror because I don’t have the right body shape for low-slung jeans. The MONTHS wasted trying to make my too-white skin a more acceptable light tangerine. All that time could’ve been spent in pursuit of better things – I could’ve been learning to fly a drone or teaching my sausage dog to do cool tricks.

I’m a comedian, I’m an excellent comedian despite what “Tam” on Twitter says, and a big part of what makes me exceptional is that I stopped worrying about what I look like. I can’t be the prettiest girl – I’ve got terrible genes and a sluggish metabolism – but I can try to be the funniest. I can try to be the happiest, and I’ve found the only way to come close to achieving those goals is to accept that I’m Unpretty and own it.

Owning it doesn’t mean “giving up”, though. It means being who you want to be, unburdened by the shackles of “pretty”. Wearing exactly what you want to wear irrespective of what some chart in a magazine told you “suits your avocado shape”. Some of us live a life where nothing suits us and once you accept that, oh boy does it open a whole new world up to you. Like a princess on a magic carpet ride with a shoplifter pretending to be a prince.

Wear what you like, and

when people look you up and

down on the bus with a nasty expression, smile at them and let them know, you know what you look like. You don’t care, because you’re loved, and you’re talented and you’re brilliant. Being pretty doesn’t even come into the equation for you, you’ve transcended pretty. You, my friend, are better than beautiful, you’re you, and you are rocking those space-themed trousers your mum told you made your legs look weird.

I’m not saying it’s an easy thing to do, but rather than berate yourself for not having the right hair or the right nose or the best abs, embrace the things you do have.

I know it’s difficult, I feel that sting of tears at the back of my nose on my worst days.

Recently my lush hair has started to fall out and thin thanks to me having the vitamin D levels of a mole person. Looking in the mirror has become a test, I avoid my reflection in the microwave but I still persevere. I pull on a funky hat, and I remind myself of what I do have: I have my sense of humour, I have my friends, I have my EXCELLENT freestyle rapping skills and I have two shows at the Glasgow Comedy Festival. You should come along, I’m not much to look at, but I’m an excellent comedian.