This outfit made me feel like I was truly seen as a model.

I am I’m no stranger to being “the only one” within the room. It’s nostalgic — not preferred or valued, but unfortunately familiar. Like an old friend I don’t particularly need to see again, but we run in overlapping social circles and I’ve learned to be nice. The comparatively more diverse world of modeling feels much like the world I grew up in. There’s an unwritten standard of what I should look like, with a small (although slowly growing) amount of room for exceptions.

When I first became a model, I signed with my agency’s latest Curve Board. My agents were supportive and never said my size or race was a barrier, but slightly something to be celebrated. However, as I began working, the unspoken divide between models who fit archaic standards and modern exceptions to the rule became clear to me. Many times I went back to being the one person on sets after receiving assignments where the casting was crammed with girls like me.

I understand today’s growing market and the necessity for diverse representation in promoting. I am proud to be the model I desired to be as a young girl who cried concerning the size of her thighs and the colour of her skin. That makes the journey value it.

Even for brands that pride themselves on flashy, front-of-house dedications to diversity, I found that the behind-the-scenes approach wasn’t at all times consistent. My hair was often a problem that needed to be handled on set or simply before shooting day. It was as if the client had asked me for natural hair but had hired a hairdresser who didn’t work with textures.

Or it looked like I had taken off the sewn-in extensions and washed my hair the night before the shoot, and the following morning on set, he had firmly styled my hair with piles of gel, after which washed it again; paying out of pocket to have my sew-in reinstalled inside 60 hours. It also appears in the shape of the stylist’s regret about having to look for garments in my size, because such an act is a “waste of money” because she won’t use them anymore. Or the coy saying about not eating an excessive amount of when eating breakfast before shooting.

Every time something like this happened, I tried to swallow my emotions in an effort to remain skilled. I even cried a little once. The phrase “death by a thousand cuts” is the closest I can come to describing this pattern. On the brilliant side, these micro and macro aggressions are being countered by like-minded hair and makeup artists, stylists and others who’re driving higher standards of practice within the creative industry.

So when I showed up on the set of the mysterious cosmetics brand reserved for me and met a variety of individuals in every corner of the room – from hairdressers and makeup artists to the marketing department – I knew I could do away with my anxiety.

After I sat down for breakfast with the opposite models, I went to do my makeup. At this point, the identity star I was working for remained a mystery. I noticed that every one the makeup I was imagined to placed on my face were nameless bottles of Wyn Beauty products. This is just not common with beauty campaigns. Commercial promoting laws require that the particular product advertised be used as the point of interest of the commercial. The remainder of the model’s face is repeatedly painted with products that the makeup artist brings along with her in her personal kit.

To my left sat my hairdresser, a black woman who teased me with a huge afro wig. I remembered a photo shoot I had done earlier this yr when the hairdresser checked out me with a slight frown and said, “Well, let’s see what we can do with it.” He was sent home by the brand to bring a wig with a more appropriate texture than mine to photograph me in. My confidence was crushed and the shooting schedule was delayed. My hair was a problem.

Throughout the day, I spoke with various members of the Wyn team and surveyed the room. Executives, all levels of staff, and we, the contractors, shared the power to collaborate creatively and share excitement. In that moment, I knew who I was working for. Her employees shone on the multi-year journey they’d launched into to construct the brand. There was a palpable sense of pride coupled with the anticipation of the launch.

After ending my hair and makeup, I caught a ray of sunlight peeking down from a high window. Instinctively, I grabbed a giant 12-foot whiteboard and held it as much as the sunshine. I turned my face upwards, posing with one other model for an impromptu BTS shoot with a social media photographer. It all got here naturally, there was mutual freedom to create.

The energy within the room was electric and I was the completely happy conductor. As we waited for every portion to be shot, we swayed to the music together with the opposite models. The final step before the shoot is styling, where my experience with the crew was seamless. They were completely happy to seek the advice of with me when selecting the look.

When I was able to shoot, I felt a confidence I had never felt before while working. I normally repeat affirmations in my head, attempting to quell the nerves plaguing my body. This time the affirmations were calm. My brain and body were in harmony, knowing I was doing exactly what I needed to do, exactly where I needed to be.

I stepped out of the frame and the Chief Brand Officer got here over to me with a smile. She told me how impressed she was with the range of shots; I thanked her each time and expressed my gratitude for the way nice everyone had been to this point.

I complimented her on her marketing vision and told her about my experiences studying and dealing in integrated communications. She listened and stayed with me for a short time to debate her history of working for other Serena ventures and her own profession. We talked about our ethnic backgrounds and our histories as second-generation immigrants.

By the time the set was over, the energy had not left my body. I thanked everyone and left the set beaming with one other model I had admired the moment I stepped out of the constructing. As the sun began to set, I said goodbye and commenced in search of a Citibike. I cycled into the sunset back to Brooklyn.

Models have unique and intimate experiences with brands that the common consumer or press doesn’t. We often have our first external interaction with beauty products or clothing and work closely with corporate teams. We can truthfully observe whether a brand is being true to what it sells, whether it’s the products or the message. However, our perspective is commonly missed when discussing corporate social governance or environmental, social and governance management. After all, we are only models.

On a personal level, working with Wyn Beauty was an experience that left an undeniable mark on my self-confidence. Moving from a university and company environment to working as a model was a transformation. I went from being respected for my intellect or work to being valued for my physical appearance, achievements and perceived personality.

From the highs of being on a Times Square billboard to the lows of being ignored on set or having my hair fried because I’m “just a model,” I’ve learned to adapt. Working with Wyn reminded me that there are individuals who truly value each. It was an experiential affirmation that reminded me how I could be valued on this career. My skin is just not a badge, and my hair is just not an inconvenience.