Once, LONG AGO, I agreed to be a model for a friend of a friend's charity event. Raising money for some animal charity, I don't recall.
I get there, and I am BY FAR the largest model there. I was not given a preview of the clothes. I was handed an outfit and told to hurry.
I stared at the outfit. I put it on and stood in front of the full length mirror, with girls and guys running around me who were size zero, and some smaller.
I wanted to run away.
But instead, I put on my bravest face (you'll laugh at that later) and strutted out onto the stage
I don't think I could hear anything. I couldn't even force myself to look at the crowd.
See, I don't show my legs. Pretty much EVER. If I do, it's usually below the knee, & I prefer to wear stockings.
I felt the most exposed & disgusted with myself & terrified I'd felt in a while
So I did my strut. I hit my marks. I think I may have tripped a little.
Afterwards, some of the other "models" were really sweet. Some whispered. Some giggled. I changed quickly. I didn't go out them for the after party.
But my then boyfriend (now husband) & friend took photos.
So, here's my photo. My fear is very evident to me.
But I'm also incredibly proud.
Moral of the story:
Do the fucking thing.
The scary thing.
The thing you think you don't fit in with.
The thing that you think you're not good enough to do.

And fucking rock it.
Because you will.
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