Beauty in the Eye Of

I am a model and have been for longer than I can remember at this point. It was never my goal to become a model. I remember wanting to be an international lawyer traveling the world and being well respected in corporate circles. There would be business meetings with tailored suits and galas with sequined dresses and a cocktail in my hand. I would be married and have a nanny for my 11 children. I didn't really put much into who or what my husband would be and I sometimes wonder if I knew then that I would be a single mom. Regardless, I was not a model...I was a business woman.

Now, I am a model. At some point, someone decided that the skinny, flat chested, full lipped Kai should be on a runway. Actually, I suppose I don't blame them. My mother taught me how to walk...to move as if I am proud of me and know where I am going. My head is held high. My back is straight. My stomach is held strong to support my core. My shoulders are unslumped. I am tall and thin and determined to be seen. Yet, I don't want to be seen on the superficial level, I want to be truly seen and heard and respected for my sometimes quirky outlook.

I am a model. Seen for beauty first where my eyes don't always see beauty. I am a model and yet, I have not always been a witness to my own beauty and therefore find it difficult to accept the complement of being a model. I find myself in a room with absolutely gorgeous women and sometimes wonder what the hell I am doing there. I feel like the outsider. The one that got in through some sort of quota...they just needed one like me.

I am a model yet, I am not a model. Modeling is what I do. I don't want to be defined by what you think of models. I want to be defined by my contributions to others, my love for my family, devotion to friends, educational accomplishments, my perseverance, my internal strength....not by an outward beauty that I don't see. I want to witness me.

Funny thing is that it never bothered me that I wasn't the gorgeous one. I was content with being average. And the other day I was speaking to a friend from high school who, after seeing my picture, told me that she "doesn't remember me being that pretty." I told her my most heartfelt truth..."Neither do I".

But, when I least expect it I get a glimpse of that fine ass sistah in the mirror. And I see.