text: Samantha says she thinks she's 'fabulous' I sprung out of bed this morning and examined myself in the full-length bedroom mirror, and I can honestly say that there’s never a day when I would rather be someone else. The woman looking back at me? She’s gorgeous, intelligent and fabulous! Quite simply, I adore who I am – inside and out. I’m no narcissist – I’m perfectly aware I have flaws, but they’re deliciously wrapped up in the very unique moi. I’ve grown to love my nose that tilts ever so slightly to the right, my hourglass figure that boasts slightly-too-large hips, and my green-sometimes-grey eyes. I’m a size 10, but even so I could do with dropping 10lbs. But as long as I don’t mind, who cares? Which is why I’m utterly peeved about Dove's latest campaign results. How humiliating to film women in a public place ‘choosing’ to walk through a door marked either ‘beautiful’ or ‘average’. Talk about putting the meeker sex on the spot. It's hardly a big surprise the survey discovered 96 per cent of women chose the 'average' option. From my experience, most women would rather strut out in public as naked as the day they were born than  freely admit that not only are they good-looking, but they’re also (whisper it) beautiful. Why is this? Numerous university studies have been carried out (I know this because their authors send them to me) and they have all come up with the same conclusion – it’s self-protection. If women don’t fit in with their (usually older, fatter, less attractive) female peers, then those who are good-looking won’t get hired for jobs by the fairer sex; their careers will stall if their boss is female and they’ll routinely receive their P45 for nothing more heinous than boasting a lovely smile. And this is what really exasperates me: it isn’t society that won’t let us admit that we’re beautiful – it’s the very same members of our own sex who hold us back. Even though I’m an un-Botoxed, un-surgically enhanced 44-year-old, I would have marched through the entrance marked beautiful without giving it a second thought. I’m extremely comfortable in my skin. Haters: Samantha has received death threats for standing up and saying 'I'm beautiful' This confidence annoys the heck out of other women. You might have read what I’ve written about this problem, in an article published in April 2012. It received almost 5,000 comments online and suddenly I was a global name. The earth turned on its axis as one woman - me - was up for admitting: ‘I like how I look and other women have a problem with it.’ Since then I’ve been ridiculed, received death threats, told I’m off my rocker. Just last week I received yet another email from a woman titled ‘please read me’ which went on at length to tell me I was ‘an arrogant, cocky woman’. Little wonder only four per cent of women were brave enough to walk through a door marked 'beautiful' in the Dove campaign. Critical: Samantha claims Dove's campaign works because it exploits our need to act modestly . My personal take on this experiment is devastatingly simple: we’d rather fit in and humiliate ourselves by claiming to be average than give our fellow 'fairer' sex any more ammunition than we've got already against each other. My view is supported by the thousands of emails I’ve received over the years from women routinely humiliated, bullied and singled out by their female peers for daring to think they look good. The emails depressingly cover the same ground wherever they live in the world. Whether they’re teenagers at school in the US, middle-aged mums in Australia or women in the workplace in the UK: if they rate themselves, display confidence, or dare to say they look good they get bullied or socially ostracised. A recent plea from a young women in how to deal with her critics was this: . ‘I have just looked up your article, it’s my life in black and white. I tried dressing down, not wearing too much make up, unfashionable clothes and flat shoes. Reaching out: Samantha receives letters from teens who get bullied for being beautiful . 'I am confident and friendly, men open doors for me, they are polite. But some women are awful to me as a result of it. 'I am fed up with it, angry about it, annoyed with it. I feel like a complete nothing and nobody; maybe that’s what I should be to be accepted.’ Another woman was banned by her mean-minded (older) female boss for wearing heels to work: they were a ‘health hazard’. What health and safety offense could she cause wearing stilettos while working as a receptionist? The mind boggles. How awful that these women are treated this way. It's little wonder so many of the fairer sex refuse to acknowledge that they are good-looking, which is ironic because so many do it in private – behind the anonymity of social media. We know how to photograph ourselves well thanks to selfies and social media sites such as Instagram. We can iron out wrinkles, banish zits, magically award ourselves a thigh gap or hip dip. In the Dove campaign, women were asked to choose between a door marked 'beautiful' or 'average' Yet to admit to the world ‘yeah, I look good’ means we risk incurring the wrath of other women. We have to be display modesty at all times - which is why Dove's campaign works brilliantly. I’m not some superior Type A female who doesn’t recognise that there are some who don’t feel happy about themselves. Yet such feelings of low self-esteem seem to go hand in hand with the desire to criticise and target others in order to restore an illusion of self worth. Any female trolls ousted usually blame their behaviour on a crisis of confidence. Ironically, they are the only ones who can help themselves - but picking on others isn't the way to go about it. In 2015, we desperately need a seismic shift in female societal thinking so that women can say loud and proud that they’re beautiful - and not fear reprisals. Otherwise cynical advertising campaigns - in a bid to flog toiletries - will continue to exploit us just like this one has 'beautifully' done.
target: Author of 'Why women hate me for being beautiful' article speaks out .
  The 44-year-old is 'utterly peeved' by the 'exploitative' Dove campaign .
  Samantha claims women's need for modesty is down to self-protection .