I'm back again with a story to tell! Yesterday (2/22) was my first time collaborating with a new photographer to build content around this here blog you all have come to know and love. I have been anxious about this photoshoot for weeks and could not wait to get it done. I had my make-up artist Taylor on hand for the entire shoot, and one of my sisters, Chele, came for moral support. *side note: I may seem like a blast in a glass with how I convey words, but in real life, I tend to be awkward and nervous with a splash of sarcasm.
Two of my goals this year are to get out of my comfort zone and build content for my blog. Instead of being filled with excitement and optimism—all I could think about was my weight. My last solo shoot was in 2013 and since then I have gained more weight than I would like to admit. Before now, I honestly embraced my "grown woman shape" because gone were the days of me not filling out a cute blouse or wrap dress. Unfortunately, two weeks prior, I became obsessive about my size. I purchased multiple outfits that just didn't quite fit me how they did the plus-size models of NY & Co. Fast forward to Saturday, and I'm trying my best not to be Issa Rae's protege as this amazing photographer snaps shots and all I can think about is how huge I will look if I don't stand with the right pose or have a prop to cover an unflattering angle. Of course, some men are honking their horns and stopping traffic to watch, but after the second look, I am utterly consumed with all these negative thoughts about my size. I keep going, totally ignoring every girl that walked or drove past me in the middle of one of Midtown's busiest intersections screaming words of encouragement at this point.
By the last look, I'm all in my head, and a girl from three lanes across the streets shouts something funny, and my ass starts crying—CRYING! Now everybody is perplexed, and Taylor is in full damage-control mode to save my face because we are not done with the look. I am mortifieddddddd. I could not believe I stressed myself to the point of tears in public. After a few moments to collect myself, I push through to finish the shoot. Princess (the photographer) chatted with me for a moment, and we packed everything up to head out. However, if you know my sister, you know she is NOT going to let me get away without addressing what the hell that was. She's the Queen of giving you the third degree. Luckily, Taylor was present, so she wasn't too hard about it, and I couldn't explain the snafu. It becomes a non-issue, and we head to the car. Once alone, I had to deal with my thoughts. It has been almost a decade since I last took pictures, and I had no idea my anxiety correlated to insecurity about my weight. Now here I am today with a few test shots feeling like a beauty queen and wholly annoyed with myself for even allow those thoughts to cross my mind. I blame Mercury Retrograde because sis has been in box braids since she got here last week, and it's also affected my ability to articulate my thoughts clearly.
With that said—no matter the size, I'm still a bad bitch! We all have to channel our inner Sasha Fierce even when feeling more vulnerable than usual. Above all, there is power in how I speak (and think) over myself. Manifest the life you want with thoughts of abundance beyond imagination.