The Weight of Silence
There is a conversation happening in whispers, in hidden comments, in the quiet shame of untold truths. It is about the choices we make for our own bodies—choices that somehow invite judgment from everyone except the one person who made them. This is a story about that silence, and the surprising freedom that comes when you finally decide to break it.
Let me start with the simplest of truths: I love natural beauty. I always have. To me, true beauty is the feeling of being confident and comfortable in your own skin. But here is what I have learned: achieving that state of mind sometimes requires us to take a small step that, ironically, goes against nature itself.
Consider how much of our daily life is already a departure from the "natural." Showering is not strictly natural—body odor is a natural phenomenon—yet we all do it because it makes us feel good. Shaving our legs? For women, growing hair is natural. But personally, I don't like the feeling of hair caught in my stockings. There is nothing wrong with going either way. The women who proudly display unshaved armpits on magazine covers are making a choice that is valid and powerful. And the woman who chooses to shave is equally valid. The point is not which choice is more natural. The point is that the choice is ours to make, and it should be respected.
So why, then, is the conversation about cosmetic procedures—about fillers, about surgery—so clouded with shame and secrecy?
The First Step and the Fear That Followed
I had always noticed my lips. They were naturally small. It was never a huge conflict within me, but I would find myself drawing my lip liner just slightly above the edge, reaching for something I didn't quite have. One day, I realized I could simply change that. I decided to try lip fillers.
When I first did it, I didn't want to talk about it. For a few weeks, I stayed silent. If someone asked, I would deflect. I felt a strange pressure to lie, even though I loved the result. But then I sat down with myself and asked a very honest question: Why do I have to lie about a decision I made? Why do I have to not respect the decision I made for myself?
I loved it. I felt more proportional, more like the version of myself I wanted to be. That should have been the end of the story. But it was only the beginning.
I realized that many people—perhaps most—are hiding the same truth. They fear the judgment, the labels, the accusation of being "fake." They fear losing their identity, their career, their standing in the eyes of others. So they stay silent. And that silence creates a false reality where people look at a model's body and think, "Wow, they are just naturally perfect. Why am I not like that?" They compare their unaltered reality to a curated illusion, and they feel inadequate. That is the real cruelty of the stigma.
Being honest about what we do sets the right expectations. It is not about promoting the choice. When I see someone with bad implants, I do not run to get the same. I have my own sense of aesthetics. Honesty empowers people to make informed decisions for themselves, while secrecy only feeds insecurity.
The Unforgivable Choice
My journey into the modeling industry taught me a great deal about this hypocrisy. I had already done my lips before I joined my last agency. They saw my pictures. They met me in person. They knew exactly what they were getting. I worked with them for a year, and in my opinion, they were not doing their job. Many agents are simply lazy—they sit and wait for calls to come instead of actively working for their talent.
I addressed my concerns openly and politely. And then, a casting came up for a major cosmetic brand. I sent my refreshed polaroids. Nothing was said. When I asked for the results, the agent spent twenty minutes berating me. He told me my lips looked horrible, fake. He said I had no future in any cosmetic campaign ever again. That was his opinion, of course. I believe there are thousands of other brands that might disagree.
I asked him, "Well, what about our top models today? Bella Hadid. Gigi Hadid. Kendall Jenner. Gorgeous girls. They have had work done, and it looks great. As long as they are open about it, what is the problem?"
His response was the most telling thing of all: "Well, you are not Bella or Gigi Hadid. You are not from that kind of family."
That was the end of the conversation for me. I parted ways with that agency. They could not accept that I had addressed my unhappiness about their productivity, and they used my choice to alter my face as a weapon against me. But here is the irony: they had taken me on knowing full well what I had done. If they thought my face was a problem, they should never have signed me in the first place. The issue was never about my lips. It was about power and control.
One More Truth
I almost forgot to mention one other thing, because it feels so much a part of me now. Before I worked for Victoria's Secret, I had breast implants. For years, I was perceived as a "commercial" girl in modeling. Agents would tell me that for high-paying jobs—bathing suits, lingerie—I needed "something." I was very flat on the front, but I always had a good shape in the back. I felt it would be proportionate. I did it, and I loved it. I even forgot I had them, because they felt like mine.
I even breastfed after, something I was worried about. It went perfectly. If anything, my breasts look better now after pregnancy because the skin loosened and the implants dropped. I love my body like this.
Back then, my agency told me I could never admit it. Clients would not want me. I was told to hide it, to lie. And for a time, I did. But I don't understand why we carry that stigma. Our bodies are ours. Our choices are ours. And we should be able to talk about them honestly without fear.
And Finally, What About My Buttocks?
There is one more thing. It's funny—one of my most viewed Instagram reels was just me doing model faces. People accused me of having buttock fillers. Absolutely not true. I have never done anything to my buttocks. I am only 27. Am I against it? Not at all. When the time comes, I might do it. Because I believe in moderation and good taste. Botox, when done right, prevents aging. Why would we not take that opportunity in the modern world? And if someone chooses not to, that is perfectly fine too.
The point is this: do what feels right for you. Care less about what people think. If you have nothing good to say, it is better to say nothing at all. We all hide behind screens and express opinions nobody asked for. Let us be kinder to each other, and more importantly, let us be kinder to ourselves.
There are no more secrets between us. That is the only way to be truly free.