Once, LONG AGO, I agreed to be a model for a friend of a friend& #39;s charity event. Raising money for some animal charity, I don& #39;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& #39;ll laugh at that later) and strutted out onto the stage

I don& #39;t think I could hear anything. I couldn& #39;t even force myself to look at the crowd.
See, I don& #39;t show my legs. Pretty much EVER. If I do, it& #39;s usually below the knee, & I prefer to wear stockings.
I felt the most exposed & disgusted with myself & terrified I& #39;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& #39;t go out them for the after party.
But my then boyfriend (now husband) & friend took photos.

So, here& #39;s my photo. My fear is very evident to me.
But I& #39;m also incredibly proud.

Moral of the story:
Do the fucking thing.
The scary thing.
The thing you think you don& #39;t fit in with.
The thing that you think you& #39;re not good enough to do.

And fucking rock it.
Because you will.