adding ginger to your sass

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Coming out for BlogHer’13

There’s something I’ve been wanting to share with you all for about 3 weeks. You’ve seen me come out to my family as a blogger, and you’ve seen me come out to my extended family via text message as a lesbian. You would think coming out as something else would be easy, but this time around it’s been surprisingly more difficult. In fact, I’ve literally sat down to write this post 3 or 4 times, and I’ve found a different excuse each time to do something else.

However, I’ve essentially been outed, and it’s time to come clean.

As Elisa announced this weekend, I will be modeling in the 2nd Annual BlogHer Fashion Show.

My latest identity is that of a model.

At a time in my life where I’ve been having an inexplicable amount of body image issues, for no reason whatsoever, I consciously decided to be a model, in a fashion show, in front of thousands of women.

This is basically both a dream come true and a huge nightmare for my inner teenage girl.

I agreed to Elisa’s message asking me to be in the show before I could say no, and the anxiety began. I received an email asking for my measurements, something I haven’t taken since I was in a wedding last summer, and it was a bit panic-inducing. I sent my various measurements and sizes to the modeling agency working with BlogHer, making note that my wasn’t asked for anywhere, and waited for the rejection. You’re too tall. You’re too heavy. You’re too pale.  You’re not what we’re looking for. I waited to hear any– or all– of those phrases, phrases I didn’t even know I could be afraid to hear someone utter to me, and anticipated being told it was all a mistake. Then I was invited to a telephone conference to discuss the show, where voices I’ve never heard laughed and spoke excitedly about how excited they were that we were all being a part of it.

I’m excited.

I’m terrified.

I’m second guessing myself.

I’m questioning the sanity of Elisa for asking me to be part of the show.

I’m most likely going to have a momentary freakout before we walk the runway and make inappropriate jokes (or take shots) with Vikki, my fellow model.

Good LAWD I have no clue what I’ve gotten into.

Yet… I can’t wait to conquer my inexplicable insecurities and own that damn runway… even though I will most likely trip. (I’m a klutz, didn’t you know??)

So, there you have it folks…

As of next Saturday, I’ll be able to say I’m a model.

Ballet always made me feel like a fairy princess. Maybe modeling will have the same effect.

Ballet always made me feel like a fairy princess. Maybe modeling will have the same effect.