When I started this blog in late May/early June of 2015, I had two goals.
- To keep up with the blog for more than a year. (I’ve published multiple other blogs that fizzled out after a few months.)
- To go to Full Figured Fashion Week in NYC in the Summer of 2016.
Now, I know they say goals should be specific but my goal to attend FFF Week was a bit of a nebulous one. In other words, I didn’t really care HOW I got there – blogger, model, spectator, floor sweeper – I just wanted to go and experience.
You can imagine my excitement then, when I saw that they were holding a casting call in Dallas at the end of February, for FFF Week runway models.
My excitement was cut short when I remembered that I am NOT, in fact, a runway model.
I am, however, an actress and if acting like I belong on the runway is my ticket to NYC in June, then I will deliver a performance worthy of an Oscar.
Or will I?
This casting call has been weighing heavy on my mind. And by that I mean that in the last week, I have been going back and forth with my decision to audition.
On the one hand, I think it would be a great experience and potentially my “in” to the Full Figured Fashion Scene.
On the other hand…modeling. Walking runways. Flying spaceships. All things I am unfamiliar with and, frankly, a little afraid of.
Oh FEAR, you little devil. Aren’t you the one who told me I shouldn’t post those fatkini pics? (Answer = yes)
Turns out, I’ve been listening to fear again. And as you probably know, he’s not super helpful. Instead, he says things like,
“Your nose is too wide”
“Your hair isn’t long enough”
“Your cheekbones aren’t high enough”
“You don’t even have a walk”
“You’re not really a model, you imposter!”
And my personal favorite…”You’re too fat.”
That’s right, I said “too fat” for an audition full of plus sized women. OMG. I wish I could just kill that stupid voice in my head. I don’t know where he came from but I know this…
He is the killer of dreams and goals. He is mean. He is not real. He is wrong.
He is wrong.
When he tells me that the girl in the strategically-angled selfie is more worthy of love than the no-make up, double chinned girl in the other photograph, he is wrong.
When he tells me that I’m disgusting and a sorry excuse for a woman, he is wrong.
When he tells me that I will never possess what other people are looking for, he is wrong.
When he tells me that I have no business in crop tops or fatkinis or shorts, he is wrong.
And when he tells me that I would be a fool to attend the FFF Week Casting Call, he is EFF, EFF, EFFING WRONG!
So how do I silence this voice in my head?
I think attending the auditions would be a good start, don’t you? In fact, I think anytime we face our fears it sends a loud and clear message that says,
FFF you, fear!
But seriously, does anyone know how to walk a runway?