zelma: I have definitely felt alone in my desires
Photo by Ocean Productions.
You can’t walk around Copenhagen without seeing posters of Zelma Lewerissa. And we’re not complaining as she is one of our top people to follow on Instagram. But we have no idea how she has all that time for modelling as she’s an anthropologist and has been studying until this summer… and did we mention she also acts? But this article isn’t just about Zelma’s CV. We’ve been wanting to interview her for a long time as we’re fascinated by her as a person. We wanted to know how about her childhood, her confidence, her perspective on what role the media plays when it comes to our sexuality and desires… and we’ve been lucky enough to get Zelma’s take on that and so much more. We’re thankful for this conversation and thankful for being able to follow Zelma right here.
Hi Zelma, we love to follow you on IG but for everyone else: could give a quick intro to who you are and how you’re feeling at the moment?
Hello! Thank you for having me. I’m Zelma, I am 26 years old and I live in a queer collective in Copenhagen, where I was born and raised, with my girlfriend of 5 years and two close friends. I’m an anthropologist, a newly achieved title, since I received my Masters degree earlier this summer. Working on my thesis has been one of the most transformative and intriguing processes of my life, a project I had the privilege of sharing and cooperating on with two of my dearest friends, Maya and Olivia. Our thesis is on Mixed Palestinian-Israeli couples and their navigation of intimacy and inequality in divergent social spheres in the settler colonial context of Palestine/Israel, where we conducted fieldwork for 4 months. Besides having a personal relationship to the context, my friends/fellow researchers and I, are all a product of mixed relationships and are in- or have been in intercultural romantic involvements, which generally proved to be an advantage in terms of gaining access and establishing trust among interlocutors. Where I could resonate with some aspects of our interlocutors' experiences of mixedness and contested love, I was confronted with various notions of intimacy and its interplay with structural violence specific to that context, which taught me a lot. While the situation of our interlocutors was peculiar and extreme in various ways, what characterized many couples was that they had been forced to engage in difficult conversations about the intricacies of their divergent power relations, positionalities and privileges, in ways couples with other identities are not usually pressured to have in that manner, although every relationship is situated in an arena of structural imbalances in one way or another. I found this aspect particularly inspirational. An understanding of intimacy as existing outside the realm of “the natural” or “the authentic”, something that flourishes within a space of negotiation and revision, fascinates me.
It feels strange to not think about the project every hour of the day anymore. In the end of the process I went to a point, where all my dreams were inside a google doc. There was no environment nor people. It was just sentences being typed like the doc was on screen sharing in my brain. After working on the preparation, the data-generation and finally the writing for 1,5 years, we understood that we needed a break from it all. However, we did not want the feelings of urgency, momentum and alternative potentialities, which the project sparked, to slowly evaporate, so we agreed on gradually returning to the project in September, where we plan on working on how the scope of our findings can stretch beyond academia, a moment in time I am looking forward to.
Besides my studies, I have worked as a model for almost 8 years. However, I would say that it really started to take off 5-6 years ago. I have also been acting for some time, which is something that brings me a lot of joy and fulfillment.
If I were to describe my current state of mind, I would say that I am trying to navigate living within a sort of cartesian dualism, where the relationship between my body and my mind have been characterized by an experience of separation for a while, due to endless deadlines and constant work the past year.
I feel at ease when I’m around people these days, especially because many of my friendships have been hard to prioritize this year, so it feels very fulfilling to get to spend more time with all my cuties. It brings me a sense of social cohesion and belonging, and it feels less complicated for me to be present in social settings.
Emotionally, it seems more challenging for me to be alone these days, despite rationally understanding the importance of it and actively doing a good job trying to follow and revise my recipe of what constitutes a pleasant day, in my own company. Being alone forces me to embody the emotional messiness that characterizes the place of friction I currently inhabit, where desires, intense longing and impulses interact with boundary work and attempts of critical inward scrutinization.
Your Instagram is a great mix of model shots and personal photos. They’re all stunning - and we especially love the ones where you pose in underwear. They feel empowering and the energy shines through. Have you always felt confident in front of a camera?
I do not remember feeling particularly confident in front of a camera, when I was a kid, but I have always gotten a kick out of performing and speaking in front of a crowd. I remember when my friends started owning canon cameras in my early teens. I did not have one, but when my friends and I did photoshoots, I recall believing that I was not very photogenic.
However, when I started modeling at the age of 19, it almost immediately felt natural for me to experiment, pose and be present in front of a camera. It initially felt liberating, soothing and empowering to have my body captured in different motions and I enjoyed the validation I received from it. Nowadays it does not always feel particularly sensational and stimulating, but more like a job, where I know what I am doing very well. However, when working with the right people, I sometimes still get to experience small glimpses of the empowerment and adrenaline I used to experience, when I started working. I am content with the fact that it can still feel playful and satisfying to shoot.
I am very thankful that I did not start modeling before, because it would probably have fed into insecurities, if I had begun when I was in my early teens. Secondly, there were barely any models above a size XS in a Danish context, when I first started out. I am very much aware that I have never been “plus size”, even though the fashion industry has labeled and marketed me as such. I am privileged in the sense that my body does not deviate radically from norms around able-bodied beauty in “the real world”. The “fashion world” can sometimes feel like a metaverse, in the sense that I get to work with people, who are half my size the majority of the time, with situations where the team has forgotten to buy tights or undies to wear under a transparent dress in a size larger than S. So yes, I’m not “plus-size”, but in terms of the standards of the fashion world I am still 20 kgs larger than what is considered “straight size”. This can be seen in relation to the ironic fact that it was considered old for me to start modeling at age 19.
I am positive about the change that has happened over the years, when it comes to representation. You can always be sure that Denmark will be 15 years behind, when it comes to such issues. However, even though representation and visibility matters, it does not necessarily lead to any structural changes, if it is only realized in front of the camera, on the surface for consumption. The foundation of fashion has never been progressive and I think a revolution on all chains from extraction of resources to production to consumerist patterns and ideologies is inevitable for a proper progressive shift in its role in the global order.
Photo by Ocean Productions.
Where do you think this confidence comes from and do you think it impacts how you show up for yourself intimately?
Hmm… that is a good question. I do feel confident in many ways, but I think it is important to acknowledge how that can fluctuate too. At times I feel competent making decisions within my own domain of reflection. The next day I have to converse with my whole family, all my friends and all the birds before I can feel confident in the choice I am about to make. I can have a period where I feel extremely confident sexually, while other spheres of my life are characterized by emotions of inadequacy and the other way around.
I have always been very driven in the fields I have engaged in and I feel privileged in the sense that I experienced multifaceted love and affirmation from my family, many of whom I looked up to as role models, which I see as foundational for the confidence I carry today. My mom especially, has always made a deal out of affirming my abilities rather than my physical appearance, which I am grateful for. However, the worst thing I could grow up to be in her eyes was actually a model or someone who dresses immodestly, which she saw as me selling my soul to the green monster of capitalism and misogyny. My youth revolt within the leftist family I come from, was hanging in underwear on all the buses on my mothers’ daily route. I know it was never her intention, but it did take a lot for me to deal with the contradicting feelings of liberty I got from mobilizing my body and expressing hyperfemininity and feelings of shame and guilt.
From an early age I experienced being sexualized and I somehow knew that I would always be curvy and that whatever I would wear, my body would never be seen as “neutral”, but I also understood the capital that it could grant me. I cannot count the number of times that I have been told that my curvaceous body was beautiful and that I could get away with it, unlike others, because my curves had certain proportions, which matched my “mixed and exotic look”. I became aware of the problematic nature of these comments and I learned to deconstruct these views early on, which made me establish filtering mechanisms that helped me protect my physical sense of self. I learned to aim for body neutrality rather than unconditional positivity. Additionally, dressing up and using my body as a tool of communicating different aesthetic expressions, humor, joy and sensuality has always granted me creative fulfilment and a sense of relatedness to my physical body.
In the early stages of my sexual history, my confidence was very dependent on my ability to achieve and be rewarded, which definitely affected my performance of - and engagement with - intimacy. My individual pleasure was very dependent on my ability to satisfy a sexual partner. I loved to experiment, but it felt more safe for me to be the one to please. I have definitely become more aware of my own wants and needs and how to communicate them intimately, but my desires will never be static. I think that upholding a sexual doctrine, where you have to know exactly what you want, and how to show up for yourself sexually, in order for intimacy to be fulfilling and pleasurable, creates a lot of unnecessary pressure. I have found that sexual experimentation and the development of a sexual language comes along with insecurities and vulnerabilities. Intimacy with a new person can feel like a first time, since it is a meeting with a new socio-bodily relational terrain with a divergent rhythm and a pace, you have to learn how to navigate. Sex can feel fucking abstract and hard to grasp, and I sometimes still don’t really know what it is or what I am doing, which in itself can make it feel awkward and unpredictable, but also cute, thrilling and steamy. All I know for a fact is that I am a very physical and sensuous person. I always have to touch something or someone, it definitely does not have to be sexual, but physical touch always releases my hyperactivity and it makes me feel at ease.
Growing up, could you relate to the stories you were told about intimacy and relationships?
Even though I come from a pretty liberal household, I still feel like I grew up under the dogma of compulsory heterosexuality. My mom was extremely concerned about what I consumed throughout my childhood and my teens. I was not allowed to watch a lot of things, read young adult magazines e.g., when I was at my mother's place, which was a huge contrast to when I was at my fathers, where I got to choose and consume whatever toxic tabloid magazine I found interest in. I remember actively looking for books with some juicy content in the adult section of the local library, where I hung out a lot. It required time and energy to find some, where the back of the book would not reveal the hot stuff it contained, in case my mom happened to find it in my room. Some of the books I read probably gave a more nuanced perspective on sex in contrast to the representations of intimacy and romance, which I was exposed to through other mediums. However, I definitely did not see any queer representation, which made it hard to come to terms and somehow materialize my own queer identity. My gender expression, which was always read as particularly feminine, enhanced social expectations of me being solely attracted to cismen.
It all changed for me when I got a scholarship and went to an international high school in India. I lived with a bunch of teenagers on a hill from 2013-2015, and even though there were problematic issues to criticize the institution for, it gave us a space where we could explore norm critical theories and progressive ideals, as well as our sexuality (even though that part was technically prohibited). It felt more safe for me to come to terms with my queer identity in an environment, where almost everyone identified as at least bicurious.
How do you think these stories affected you and have you been able to follow your own wants and needs despite these?
The malegaze in general has been mindfucking to me, because even though I could feel something, when a cisman's desire for a ciswoman was presented to me in popular culture, I did not feel like it resonated with my desire and lust completely. I did not desire a womxn in the same way a cisman on TV did, and it did not feel authentic to me to be the subject of desire in that way either.
I believe that I have been able to ride with my desires throughout time, but not always effortlessly. There is no doubt that it would have been easier for me, if I had been presented with a more diverse representation of sexual experiences including the messiness and challenges that comes with giving in to vulnerability.
sitre is hoping that the more perspectives and diverse stories we show, the less alone people will feel with their wants and needs. Have you ever felt alone in regards to your desires?
I have definitely felt alone in my desires, which have felt alienating. However, when I have experienced solitude in relation to my desires, it has not always been a negative thing. Some things may have to be explored alone first. You do not need to be completely aware of what you want intellectually, materially, spiritually and sexually all the time.
What do you think we need to do as a society to help everyone feel free to pursue their desires?
I’m not sure if I can answer exactly what we as a society can do, so everyone is able to seek pleasure, despite an obvious one - the fall of racist hetero-sexist-capitalist-patriarchy haha. Well, since that is not lying in the horizon, I believe that stigma plays a central role, when it comes to repression of desires of any type. Anything that works towards de-stigmatization, will help the pleasure revolution. It is hard for me to be more concrete than that.
Finally: what advice would you give if someone didn’t feel confident about who they are and this meant they didn’t follow their desires?
I generally do not believe that you can only show love and care to others, when you love yourself. I regard the relationship between desire and confidence in a similar manner. It is important to try to be kind to yourself, but it is also essential to be open to receive care in the collective, in relation to others. I have worked on my confidence internally, but I have found a lot of strength within the spheres of my relationships. Exploring your desires may nurture your confidence and comfortability. If you don’t feel confident, try to seek comfort, even if it is temporary. Comfort may make you feel more safe to slowly outlive some of your desires. Try to critically examine what role desire in general plays in your life, not necessarily sexual desire. Do you regard it as unproductive and something you have to work for to deserve? If that is the case, you may have to strive towards cultivating a stronger feeling of entitlement to satisfaction, intimacy and pleasure.
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