In photos, I use rosy hues to soften my hardened edges and create the illusion of a “gentle” appearance. This practice is learned behavior, similar to the way I spent years strategizing over sustenance; forcing my body to become small, unobtrusive, a whisper. But without a filter or veneer, I am smoldering with fire that I do not feel compelled to hide for fear that my ambition and tenacious spirit makes others feel uncomfortable or afraid. I am a challenger with an unapologetic appetite. I am 68 inches and 140 pounds of force, and I want you to reckon with me.

In photos, I carve my mouth into an unnatural and delicate girlish smirk that is reserved for cameras and strangers. I have adapted; learned to restrict my yearnings and swallow my objections so others do not mistakenly characterize my intensity as callousness. But without filters to dull my radiance, my confidence is written in my dark, strong brows. Each crooked smile is framed by lips that I shamelessly paint red. My hard work is evident in skin that has been worn and marked by stress and never getting enough rest.

In photos, I suppress the most authentic aspects of my beauty so as to protect them from criticisms, but in the process I bend at the knee before my critics. In reality, I do not plead for approval. Instead, I earn respect.