Spoiler: most of it made me feel worse.
Every set I bought? Either too tight in all the wrong places, awkwardly cut, or just… underwhelming.
I’d look in the mirror and think: meh.
Did he even notice?
More importantly — did I?
I started avoiding mirrors.
Pulling at straps. Fixing waistbands.
Waiting for that “confident” feeling to magically show up. It never did.
So I gave up.
I settled into the “it’s fine” drawer.
Plain bras. Whatever panties.
Sexy lingerie?
Felt like something made for someone else. Definitely not me.
Then something happened I wasn’t expecting…
It was at a friend’s birthday.
One of those cozy, wine-fueled nights where the music’s loud, the makeup’s melting, and the conversations turn real.
She walked in glowing.
Not in a flashy way — just… that kind of glow. Like she knew who she was and didn’t apologize for it.
I complimented her outfit. We got talking. (Okay, yes — tequila may have been involved.)
And somehow… lingerie came up.
She told me she only wore one brand now.
A brand started by a woman — for women like us.
Women who wanted to feel sexy without sacrificing comfort.
Who wanted softness and strength.
Who wanted lingerie that didn’t whisper “fix yourself” — but screamed “you’re already enough.”
She swore by it. Said it changed everything.
She even joked it saved her relationship.
Honestly? Looking at her — I believed it.
I was skeptical.
Later that night — tipsy, curious, scrolling — I found the site.
SecretCoco.
Beautiful models. Dreamy lighting.
I’ll admit it: I was suspicious.
They’re models. This won’t fit me like that.
But her words stuck with me.
She promised it wasn’t fake. She said it felt even better than it looked.
And maybe it was the tequila…
But I said f*ck it — and ordered three sets.
