Since I was 10 years old, I always knew I wanted to be a model. I used to spend hours obsessing over runway photos and styling my hand-me-downs in weird ways so I could stand out.
I’ve always felt the need to be different but, sometimes, life doesn’t lead to these dreams immediately. I was a single mother of two in my twenties. I spent eight years as a dancer doing hair part-time to make ends meet while I raised my kids, brother, and took care of my mother.
It wasn’t until I was 29 that I was faced with the opportunity to chase my dreams of becoming a model. During the pandemic, when all the clubs closed and I was sitting at home during quarantine, I had to reevaluate my career and whether I was even happy anymore.
The truth was, I hadn’t been happy with the repetition in my life for quite some time. I felt unfulfilled and knew it was time to make a change. The scariest part of chasing my dreams was figuring it all out on my own.
I was rejected by agency after agency because of my age. At nearly 30, I was told I had aged out of the industry. I live in the Midwest where predatory agencies and scammers are often the best help you have for creating a modeling career.
I was fortunate to make friends with talented photographers who helped me build my portfolio as I practiced non-stop on posing. After doing this for just three months, I was signed with an agency and, eventually, another agency based in New York that fully believes in what I do.
When I got into modeling, my social media blew up within a few months. I was shocked at how many messages I received from other women, people like me, who were grateful to see themselves represented in my work.
It became a strong driving force for me. It’s unfortunate that, socially, Korean women are expected to be petite and docile when, in fact, I’m the complete opposite of that — and so are so many others. It’s oppressive, and through my modeling, I want to reclaim our space so we can have our faces and bodies seen.
Now that I’m pregnant, I’m continuing to model. In fact, I’ve decided it’s an amazing opportunity to incite even more change within the industry. We’re often shown ads and fashion that represent pregnancy as beautiful — but only when you’re thin and have a round belly.
Often, pregnant belly molds are applied to non-pregnant women in order to create the illusion of a “perfect pregnancy body” when, really, all bodies are perfect as they are.
The reality is, this doesn’t represent most people’s experience of pregnancy. I know it’s certainly not mine. It’s time for true representation.
As I embrace and relish my last pregnancy with my rainbow baby, Sunni, I’m loving styling my bump in fun and unconventional ways. I’m over the matronly look pregnant people are expected to maintain in order to please the public eye.
In the Midwest, I definitely raise a lot of eyebrows with my looks and can hear people comment on my body but I refuse to allow it to stop me — I know I’m beautiful. My kids are seeing me embrace pregnancy unconventionally and, as they grow up, I hope it gives them the confidence to be who they want to be.
As someone who has always been eccentric, at 30 I’m glad I have the opportunity to represent other misfits out there that have felt underrepresented by the fashion industry.
It’s about time we start letting people be who they want to be.