I entered a beauty pageant once, when I was 19.

I was a controversial contestant; I actually worked as a creative writer (not a student, model, or aspiring actress) for the major sponsor, I did all my own hair and make-up (badly), I cracked jokes anytime the microphone was in my face, I couldn't walk in a ball gown and I even wrote a scathing opinion piece for the local newspaper when it was over. I generally didn’t know how to be a proper beauty queen. I’d never done anything like it before.

And, surprise, surprise, no crown for Hannah. I was devastated – which actually came as a shock to me. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to be recognized as being beautiful.

My uncle, who had grudgingly come along to watch the spectacle go down, looked on as I stood backstage, consolation bouquet hanging from my fist, layers of mascara streaming down my cheeks.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, “you’ll be remembered for something far more important than winning a beauty contest.”

That statement always stuck with me, but being beautiful seems like the easier road to success sometimes, doesn’t it? And never more so than now – thanks to Mr. Internet.

Like me, please, just like me!

Like images in magazines of scantily clad models, or suggestive songstresses on MTV encouraging us to attain the ideal, vlogs, online photo platforms and blog posts are staining our online spectrum with sex.

Social media a hotbed for corruption? Oh, hells yes.

I’ve been dabbling in online endeavors for a couple of years, first curious, then excited by the possibilities and opportunities available on the INTERNET. I remember when I first started out.

You get all your accounts, your Twitter, your YouTube, and set up your blog, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have just the slightest aspiration to be the next-big-thing. Thoughts of grandeur swirling as you scheme your first witty tweet, wracking your brain for the clever title of your soon-to-be-viral blog post.

So you post a few photos on DailyBooth, tweet excitedly to your non-existent audience, blog your heart out, and post a few awkwardly amateur videos to YouTube.

Then you sit back and wait to be discovered.

But something's missing...

Hmmm, ok. The Internet is not responding to you. You search high and low for ideas. You watch countless videos of female vloggers, check out their DailyBooth history. You find women that represent something you'd like to achieve – mega follower numbers and viewing figures that would make an advertiser weep with delight.

I looked for clues. I was doing my best to be funny and smart with my writing, informative with my videos, and approachable in my photos.

But it wasn’t enough. I could see these girls, sometimes they were funny – but most often, SEXY was the main thrust of their message.

Some talked dirty, discussing sex or dating, posting pictures in their bikinis, while some jokingly played with phallic objects, all with perfect hair and close-up ready faces. Even the ones who were ‘clean-cut’ or talking about something entirely above board found a way to get in something for the guys. Low-cut tops, skin-tight dresses or jeans for the full-body shots.  

These women were using their looks to gain success.

I was a little discouraged. I wanted to be a big deal on the Internet, but not like that – I’m a total goody two shoes. And I didn’t want my parents to have to see me doing that shit, come on.

Keep your boundaries, I told myself. Keep boobs out of it. Make-up, hair, fine, but no sexy outfits.

I plugged away making more videos. I had minimal success. My blogging was even worse – I couldn’t sink my teeth into the subject matter I had set out for myself (blogging and social media for beginners).

I went on for months, losing interest, watching other girls streak ahead of me in the viewing figures. I spent hours planning my vlog content, the promotion, optimizing their searchability – and then I’d see a chick talking about something entirely brainless, with a sexy pout, and of course, the boobs, always the boobs – with thousands of hits.

One such video was the last straw for me. I watched her prance about showing off her outfit, talking utter shit, and I literally thought, fuck this. If I have to be like that – then I don’t want this that bad. And that was the end of it – for a while, at least.

A few months back, I was hanging out with a friend, and we came on to the subject of what we wanted to be when we were kids.

I thought immediately how I’d always wanted to be a writer, from the start. But that wasn’t all. Coming and going in waves through my memory was another aspiration; I wanted to be a television presenter. Unbelievably, that was even the result of my high school career aptitude test. If my skills, interests and intelligence were anything to go by, I should be in front of a camera, reading a script with a mic in my hand. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing...

The conversation reignited something in me.

Dammit, that’s why I wrote a blog. That’s why I made YouTube videos. Because I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and I’ve bloody always wanted to be a TV presenter, too.

I didn’t want to be Internet famous, I wanted to be real famous. The Internet just happened to be the platform available to me.

I was back online, but this time, with a mission.

I wanted to write what I really wanted to write, and I wanted to make videos that made people laugh. All of this with a view to maybe, one day, secure my goals, my way.

I created StopBeingCrap.com, and played around making videos again, because forget everyone else, it’s what I love doing.

Back to reality

I filmed the video wearing two bras.

The viewing figures doubled that of my previous videos in a matter of days.

Yep, brilliant. I get an audience when I pretend to be someone else and uncomfortably enhance myself.

So, things haven’t changed in the time I was away.

But I have.

I’m not going to do this for boys. I’m certain of that now. I don’t want dirty comments. In fact, I actually really dislike it when a random viewer or follower says something about the way I look. Because:

I get it now. It’s not what I want to be known for.

I write for women. I make videos because I want  to entertain people, make them laugh. I do what I'm comfortable doing, and I'll never cross that line. Maybe people won't watch me because of it. But that doesn't matter.

I’m going after my dreams here – not Internet infamy.