"Wisdom is taking your own advice," my mom reminds me as I glare at a girl on social media then hint that she should've let me pursue modeling more seriously as a teen. In fact, that was a most reoccurring argument growing up.
I wanted to be a professional model, and my mother wanted a future for me that had more to do with my mind, than my physicality. My adult shell acknowledges that she's right.
Raising awareness about the limitations imposed on women by promoting certain beauty ideals, has long been on my mind. But in weaker moments, the inner child screams, "look at me!"
And unfortunately, she thinks the only way to make that happen is to hold down a stage with women who secretly hate her guts, wearing a crown on her head and a white ribbon diagonally across her chest.