Looking back at my adolescence, I remember a particular episode with great clarity: seeing cellulite on my legs for the first time when I was 19 and inducing myself into a state of panic. I went out and bought body brushes and moisturisers to try and tackle this unsightly, humiliating flaw. My thought process was that if I started dealing with my cellulite now, perhaps I wouldn't have to feel ashamed and embarrassed by my body when I was older. Underpinning this whole thought process was the belief that I would no longer be attractive or desirable if I had cellulite- I would not be perfect. I would be flawed, tarnished.