"You're not fat!"

“You’re not fat!” They all always say. Who are ‘they’? Do ‘they’ really matter? I ask myself. In a room full of models I can feel like the biggest person in the room. It’s tough business to get into, and an even tougher business to be apart of.

This is what my mind set used to be towards my newly founded curves...

This is a miserable place in my life. I’m 119lbs. The heaviest I’ve ever been. I can barely stand to see myself in the mirror (some days). I find flaws from head to toe. I feel like I’m letting everyone down.

Yet I hear, “You are not fat!” “Who told you that you're fat?” I think, "should I answer this one?" I could answer this one. I could say my brother would always called me “bubble butt”, but it would be unfair to relate this. I had nicknames for him, and I know I'm better than that.  “Should I just say, I hate my flabby arms, thunder thighs, bubble butt and bulging stomach?”

So I mumble “no-one”


I can see them every time I stand on a scale, which is about five days a week. And my every flaw I see is not my only point of discontent. There is my stomach, pouring over my pants when I sit and my thighs, which scare me the most because I have to wear darker jeans, and stir away from leggings.

Then a doctor visit comes. I stand on the scale as the nurse asks, “Have you been working out a lot lately? You’ve lost a few pounds since last time?”  I shrug in disbelief and carry on asking how all I am. “You’re still 5’6”, but you need to gain weight.”

No matter if the nurse was right or wrong, or if I did really drop weight, I could never except it… I still felt fat, ugly, and out of shape.

Next stop on the agenda, the agency. These visits terrify me because I know I couldn't change my hairstyle, gain weight or dye my hair. I was under a contract that I had to follow. After two years you would think I’d be use to the visits. Practicing runway with the other models. Seeing how my acting skills were coming along, and making sure I was still a size 00.

Guess what? In October of 2008 my 5-year modeling contract was up. I was asked to resign for another five years. I knew how much money they made on me for each shoot I did. I also knew I could do it on my own.


And this is what I've come to...

The following January I cut my low back length hair up to my chin. I told the agency I would renew my contract if I could make more money, they declined my offer. I have since then went from a size 00 to a 0, and from 93lbs to 119lbs. I see myself in a better light. I am comfortable in the skin I’m in. It’s still tough to not feel fat or want to starve myself, but I LOVE food. I workout daily, well at least I try to. I’ve been getting more modeling paid gigs than ever, and most of all I feel healthy.

“You’re not fat!” I truly believe that today.