Growing up I was definitely not the best looking person. Well at least I thought so, ask my mother and she would say I was the cutest baby and then........well then I grew up. Its understandable, I mean, there are very few unattractive babies in the world. Most of them have their own center of cuteness or at least love-able qualities that we like. But all in all, I was a cute baby, then hit puberty and then wires went crazy I suppose. I suffered from a low self esteem mind and started becoming an over weight teenager. Acne hit then hit me, hair came from places that I did not even know I had and being surrounded by women in my house just made things even more awkward. I guess everyone goes through this stage and they feel the same ways I did. But I never saw myself being anything but what I was at that time. I would crave to be one of the cool kids or like a movie star that was attractive and desired. I yearned to have a beautiful physic and all the style in the world. I prayed to be a good looking person, that had everything that good looking people had. But it seemed like it never would happen.
As I got older, slowly those desires just started to change. I started just being okay with who I was. I started losing weight, my acne scars slowly started peeling away and with that my self esteem started to rise. I was feeling better about myself. I started to feel hopeful for the future. Eventually I learned that it was okay to be different or unique, it was finally freedom.
For the past 4-5 years I have been in the modeling industry. I have worked for many agencies as a runway and print model. It is something that I never thought would happen. Thinking back on it now, I would have laughed. But it happened. Of course there are a lot of details in between the years to get me where I am now. But thats not what this topic is supposed to be about. This is about a prayer that I once had that I would have in my heart all the time. I wanted to make it in the world. I wanted to be in the spotlight. I wanted to be a calendar model, I wanted to have my own printed ads broadcasted everywhere. I wanted it all. Then it happened.
I was at work when I received an email from the owner of "Mormon Missionaries" calendar. For those of you who do not know what this is, it is basically a calendar that shows models who were once Mormon missionaries in a more sexual way. It has been published for the past 3 years and is a very popular calendar. It is something that I would have gotten paid a great deal of money on and would have launched another side of my modeling career to a new level. However, the drawback would have been an immediately dismissal from the LDS Church. Sadly, even I still questioned whether or not this would be something that I would like to do. It was probably the carnal man that wanted to do it, but it was the internal struggle with myself that really troubled me.
I spoke with some of my best friends. I got their feedback. I learned and understood their views. I was shocked to see who thought it would be good idea and who didnt. But there was one friend that was so mortified and offended that I would consider the show, that it made me realize that I needed to evaluate my life. He opened up my spiritual eyes and helped me understand my future.
I turned the offer down.
A week later, the owner came back to me. He offered me the June page of the 2011 calendar, a larger sum of money that any other model, plus a 10% commission on every calendar sold. The estimated price of all of this would have been around $10-12k at the end of the year.
Thankfully, I had the strength again to, thank him for his time and turn the offer down.
This dream of having a calendar page came just like I prayed for. But maybe my answered prayer came from the wrong guy. Satan really will try everything to get you to do something that seems amazing, but in the end will be your destruction. I am so grateful for the place I am in with my life right now. I am grateful for a friend who opened up my eyes.
I can see my life in a better camera lense. Its a more eternal and promising shot.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Yeah, I am Adopted
Imagine a picture of a family, standing next to a home. This family consists of a father, mother, two brothers and three sisters. Each other them have beautiful brownish blonde hair, round faces and similar smiles. They are dressed in matching outfits, groomed to the best of their mothers ability, and all very aware of their fathers eyes monitoring them constantly. They have taken this picture before, so it seems like artwork as they line up and take their positions. Then you notice a small boy in the front, he has dark hair and olive skin. He does not match the rest of the family features but yet you just know that he belongs in that photo. That small boy was me.
Many of you know that I am adopted. But there are also many of you that do not know that about me. My mother used to introduce me as her "Ready-made" baby. This topic has been something that for most of my life has been extremely hard for me to discuss. To this day, I remember the feelings that I had when I found out, where I was and what occurred. I was about in the 4th grade, I was sitting in gym class. My brother was being a teachers aid or helping with something in the gym. My brother was the star athlete at our school, so of course I was more than proud that he was there. As I was sitting with my back against the wall, a girl slide next to me, this girl was in a higher grade than me. She was not any one that I normally would have spoken to, but for some reason that day she did. She slide over and proudly said, "Thats not your brother". Of course I was confused, a little defensive and then finally after she repeated it over and over I became upset. Who would say something like that? And who was this girl that would say these things to me? Flustered and confused, the final bell at school was my shining savior for the day. I went home still upset, where I found my mother. In tears I told her what had happened. Then the conversation that changed my life occurred.
I was adopted. To me, at such young age, I thought I was the biggest rejection ever known. It was such a feeling of sadness and emptiness. It was one of the worst feelings that I have ever known, and I hope to never be able to feel that again.
My mother never went into details and to this day, I do not know of my biological mother or father. My parents know who they are and I am also pretty sure that my brothers and sisters know. I probably should know, but the desire that most people would have seems to desert me. It just does not seem applicable to me in any way or form. My mother spoke to me about how I should think of the word, "adopted", as a special word. That it meant something so much better than what I was portraying it as. But as a young kid, it just did not seem to work. Years went by, I eventually hid my feelings in the past and never mentioned it to anyone. I would avoid the common questions of it like the plague. Constantly finding ways to get out of the people constant questions about me compared to my sisters. I became good at it. I graduated, left the small town that I grew up in and moved to North Texas. There I met the family that made me fully understand how important being adopted was.
Jane and Wallis Winegar were new move-ins to the town. They brought with them their family from California, it consisted of two boys and three girls. Each one of them looking completely different from the next. Soon I became friends with this family, learned of their life and how they came to be. They have all but one adopted child. They have fostered even more children that I can even remember them telling me of. Their lives have been dedicated to service in the church and their family. There, by following their example I learned that being a family is not about blood relation, but being grounded in love, honesty and respect for each other. I learned not to be ashamed of where I came from, but love the fact, that I was there at that moment, having a life with wonderful parents and a family.
From that point on being adopted was something that I was proud of. I came to the realization that I was given a chance at life. I realized that my life was great. I understood that me being where I was; was exactly what was supposed to happen. I was actually proud of my life's path.
Today I still feel the same. I still know just as little as I was told when I was in the 4th grade. It does not really matter to me though. Still people ask me, "Do you ever want to find your real parents". I use the same response in telling them, "Why? My life is so great, why would I want anything else?"
And really? How could I ask for anything better than what I was given?
"Because I have been given much, I too must give."
Yeah, I am adopted. Its wonderful.
To my biological mother, Thank you for making the choice to keep my life.
To Jane and Wallis, Thank you for showing me a family can take any form.
To my one true Mom, Thank you for making me the way I am.
Many of you know that I am adopted. But there are also many of you that do not know that about me. My mother used to introduce me as her "Ready-made" baby. This topic has been something that for most of my life has been extremely hard for me to discuss. To this day, I remember the feelings that I had when I found out, where I was and what occurred. I was about in the 4th grade, I was sitting in gym class. My brother was being a teachers aid or helping with something in the gym. My brother was the star athlete at our school, so of course I was more than proud that he was there. As I was sitting with my back against the wall, a girl slide next to me, this girl was in a higher grade than me. She was not any one that I normally would have spoken to, but for some reason that day she did. She slide over and proudly said, "Thats not your brother". Of course I was confused, a little defensive and then finally after she repeated it over and over I became upset. Who would say something like that? And who was this girl that would say these things to me? Flustered and confused, the final bell at school was my shining savior for the day. I went home still upset, where I found my mother. In tears I told her what had happened. Then the conversation that changed my life occurred.
I was adopted. To me, at such young age, I thought I was the biggest rejection ever known. It was such a feeling of sadness and emptiness. It was one of the worst feelings that I have ever known, and I hope to never be able to feel that again.
My mother never went into details and to this day, I do not know of my biological mother or father. My parents know who they are and I am also pretty sure that my brothers and sisters know. I probably should know, but the desire that most people would have seems to desert me. It just does not seem applicable to me in any way or form. My mother spoke to me about how I should think of the word, "adopted", as a special word. That it meant something so much better than what I was portraying it as. But as a young kid, it just did not seem to work. Years went by, I eventually hid my feelings in the past and never mentioned it to anyone. I would avoid the common questions of it like the plague. Constantly finding ways to get out of the people constant questions about me compared to my sisters. I became good at it. I graduated, left the small town that I grew up in and moved to North Texas. There I met the family that made me fully understand how important being adopted was.
Jane and Wallis Winegar were new move-ins to the town. They brought with them their family from California, it consisted of two boys and three girls. Each one of them looking completely different from the next. Soon I became friends with this family, learned of their life and how they came to be. They have all but one adopted child. They have fostered even more children that I can even remember them telling me of. Their lives have been dedicated to service in the church and their family. There, by following their example I learned that being a family is not about blood relation, but being grounded in love, honesty and respect for each other. I learned not to be ashamed of where I came from, but love the fact, that I was there at that moment, having a life with wonderful parents and a family.
From that point on being adopted was something that I was proud of. I came to the realization that I was given a chance at life. I realized that my life was great. I understood that me being where I was; was exactly what was supposed to happen. I was actually proud of my life's path.
Today I still feel the same. I still know just as little as I was told when I was in the 4th grade. It does not really matter to me though. Still people ask me, "Do you ever want to find your real parents". I use the same response in telling them, "Why? My life is so great, why would I want anything else?"
And really? How could I ask for anything better than what I was given?
"Because I have been given much, I too must give."
Yeah, I am adopted. Its wonderful.
To my biological mother, Thank you for making the choice to keep my life.
To Jane and Wallis, Thank you for showing me a family can take any form.
To my one true Mom, Thank you for making me the way I am.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)