I may have to stop using Twitter. Or at least stop following accounts that tweet and retweet Endless pictures of the same woman. And never look at Tumblrs, is my advice.

She's not literally the same woman, that would be bizarre, even by internet standards. But the same archetype, the flat-bellied, shaven-havened 20-something.

I have always been a grumpy old ratbag about this sort of thing but recently I seem to have reached new levels of dislike for "perfect" bodies cluttering up my monitor. It is no coincidence, of course, that I feel particularly strongly about diversity in erotic imagery given that I currently feel about as far from the industry standard as I can be without actually growing a beard.

Let's see, when compared with generic "sexy" pics:

• I have a belly. We've been through a lot together, my belly and I. It has faint silver lines upon it from when it had to accommodate my growing baby all those years ago. When I lie down you cannot see my pelvic bones jutting out but you can see a 3D version of the Malvern Hills, in flesh.
• I have hair. The odd one or two have turned silver. I used to try to conform and shave off my pubic hair but, to be honest, I could never get that smooth effect seen so commonly in  erotica. I diligently read all the top tips on avoiding razor rash and ingrown hairs and my mons still looked like an ineptly plucked chicken. Then I thought, why am I wasting so much time and energy on this, the endless maintenance, putting my back out in a contorted effort to shave my own arsehole? Surely there is more to life than this? So I put down the razor and the hand mirror and decided that if any love interest of mine can't negotiate a bit of hair he's not the man for the job in the first place.
• Which leads on to labia. I look at most of these photos and wonder where they are. It's like an endless array of fleshlight close-ups. Theirs all look like perfect pecan nuts and mine's like a badly packed kebab.
• I have thighs, big ones.
• Ditto bingo wings.
• I am not dainty, I tower over most men and easily outweigh them.
• I won't kneel.

Usually such differences don't bother me, I know that the reality for most of us is far removed from the carefully staged imagery we're presented with for entertainment purposes. Maybe I am at a sensitive age, maybe it's because I had my uterus removed last year and it left me wondering how my sexuality would be affected, if at all, maybe it's because I am looking at the wrong stuff in the wrong places, but I just seem to be particularly vulnerable to self doubt at the moment.

I am open to suggestions as to how to overcome this. In the meantime I'm off to try to find my own methods of feeling better about it all.