I thought I was pretty.... then I became a model.

It’s true. I thought I was pretty…until I became a model.

I was never the conceited type that thought I was God’s most beautiful creation but I didn't think anything was “wrong” with me. The truth is I was more concerned with sports and having fun with my brothers growing up than spending time in the mirror.  My parents lavished me with love and compliments,  my dad always telling me that I was a red corvette, my mom made me feel like I could be whatever I wanted to be, and my brother’s taught me how to hold my own in any and every situation so I never had a shortage of confidence. My world never revolved around looks. Then when I went to play basketball at the University of Kentucky I was nicknamed Baller Barbie and was flattered by fans holding signs asking me to marry them and sending me flowers. Still my main focus wasn't on my appearance but it did become more important to me as it seemed to became more important to others. As I was nearing the end of my college career I was approached about doing some modeling and since I was ready for a different adventure than basketball I said why not?

        I remember walking into my first photography meet up where there were about twenty other models there working with photographers to get images for their portfolios. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening. While I was wearing sweats and the extent of beauty products I used before going was a little Carmex on my lips, these girls were all fighting for mirror space as they frantically applied layers of make up, false lashes, and hair extensions. They barely stopped to look down at me when I strolled in wearing my comfy air max sneakers. In their defense they couldn't help to look down on me because they were all wearing 5 inch heels. 
        Whoa, what world did I just get transported to? I was used to a locker room full of girls who thought they were putting effort into their looks if they wore their hair in a pony tail rather than an untamed pineapple on top of their head. Dorthy wasn’t in Kansas anymore.  A make up artist grabbed me up and went to work on me as I pleaded with her to keep it natural looking. A designer was there to quickly hand me a tight fitting dress and fancy swimsuit to wear for the day and before I knew it I had received images of myself that I felt the need to stare at so I could get familiar with that girl I saw starring back at me. The scar that has been on my chin since the time I was a little girl playing football in the back yard was no where to be found. The natural looking eye shadow that I requested to the make up artist was changed into a brilliant turquoise on the images. The designer clothes, meticulously styled make up and hair as well as the retouching done in the editing room turned a college athlete who knew how to pose a little bit from all the promotional team photo shoots and watching America's Next Top Model into a real model. 

        Legitimate modeling jobs started coming my way left and right. There I was doing beauty ads in major magazines, fashion editorials, and commercials for major brands and designers along side girls who had dreamed of this their whole lives. For a while I just went with the flow but then I started to notice something. Every time I showed up on set my look was altered by make up artists and hairstylists. Fake lashes, hair extensions, and padded bras were always used to “enhance” my beauty. As I flipped through the magazines that I was in or went to the website’s flaunting their products through my photos I noticed that they always “fixed” something about me. Sometimes they made my skin and eyes lighter, sometimes they made my waist look smaller, me teeth whiter, my nose thinner, my hair fuller, and on and on and on. But what happened without me even being aware of it was that I started wearing more make up to “fix” what I had been taught wasn’t perfect about me. A little lip liner to plump the lips, heavy mascara for dramatic eyelashes, foundation for perfect skin to name a few. I started using more hair products, wearing designer clothes and unconsciously making myself “pretty” like my modeling work showed me to be. The confusing part was that at one shoot they would make my eye brows thick and then the next thin, at one shoot they made my skin look pale and the next bronze so I was never quite settled on what look to try to achieve.  I was caught up in the matrix. 

It’s a bit ironic that what woke me up was seeing myself in my dream job. I landed a job doing print ads and digital media ads for a major athletic company and I was excited to see myself representing them. Finally, the images came and all I could look at were those big boobs in their latest sports bra. Anybody who knows me know that I’m a petite girl. Those full Cs that I was seeing had been added in the editing room and I was so disappointed.  Where the heck did those come from? I asked myself as I looked down at my barely B chest. This was a pivotal moment for me because I could have easily been persuaded that I needed to look like the image I saw in front of me and been unhappy with my own body.

But rather than being disappointed in myself like the ad and all ads intend to make people feel about themselves in order to motivate them to buy the products that will “fix” them, I was disappointed in the brand, the photographer who edited the photo, and in our society that has come to this! This was a brand that was suppose to empower people to live healthy lifestyles and here they were preying on the insecurities of women who don't feel like their bodies are good enough and will never be good enough until they are edited. Let’s be honest, thats the reason our society is addicted to social media. Rather than having real life interactions with people that can see your unique traits that society may not glamorize, see your flaws (that we all have), see you wearing an old t shirt and sweat pants that would never get 100+ likes, we can hide behind our devices with our outfit that was put together just for those 200 selfies at 30 different angels then use the app that makes your waist look smaller and your booty look bigger, slap that beauty filter on it, use the right hashtags, and if all that still doesn’t make it perfect enough to gain more followers we can just go buy some. Because we aren't really attractive. We aren't really worthy of anyone being attracted to the real us, so society wants us to believe.

       That thing you keep obsessing about in the mirror can be fixed by a new expensive contouring kit. That fat on your waist can be transferred to a different part of your body for the right price. You can add a couple kilos of indian hair to your head by one click on the internet. You can buy that new product that makes you thinner, or makes your lips bigger, or makes your freckles disappear, or that body suit that pushes your boobs up, or that jacket that makes you look like you shop on Rodeo Dr. You can buy that perfume that made the model in the ad look like she just had great sex, you can buy that shampoo that makes your hair as silky smooth as the model’s hair in the ad you just saw that was computer generated. You can buy those heels that are red at the bottom so you can look seven feet tall like the photographer made that model in the ad look as he laid on the floor  to get an angle to make you envy her legs. You can buy that waist trainer that the those famous sisters claim to have made their waists so small. And if you can’t afford those things you can always just make starve yourself or make yourself throw up after you eat. Or you can start selling your body to make enough money to purchase those must have products. Or you can start sleeping with any guy who gives you attention to make yourself feel as pretty as those models and celebrities. And sadly, society would be okay with that.

  OR YOU CAN STOP THE MADNESS!!!! You can stop looking through all of the so called beauty magazines that are 80% advertisements to make you feel like you need those products to be beautiful, happy, successful, and important. You can stop scrolling through those fake instagram accounts wondering why you can’t get that body even though you burn 1500 calories on the tread mill. You can shut down men who want to use you as their sex object and throw you away when they see a new shinny toy.  You can stop questioning yourself and wondering if he cheated on you because you didn’t have a certain physical attribute that the girl on Twitter has. You can realize that you were created by the Almighty God who makes no mistakes and made you in His image. You can open the bible and learn that God loves you so much that He knows how many hairs are on your head. You can encourage other women to feel better about themselves which will help you see how special you are too. You can use social media to inspire others rather than to show off. 

       It’s funny, my husband always seems to compliment me most when I feel like I look the worst. Every model complains about having to show up onset with a clean face (no make up) because they are embarrassed to let others see the real them. But it’s in my most vulnerable moments I catch my husband starring at me, without a stitch of make up on and then he says something like “You are so beautiful!l” or “Your skin glows” or “You have some pretty eyes”.  I think to myself .....wait I thought that eye liner was what made my eyes pretty, or that bb cream that made my skin look nice, or that brow pencil that made my eyebrows frame my face the right way…. then I shake my head and remember how they have sold us lies.

           I have been developing aspiring models and actors for now for almost 10 years and I’m amazed to see how these young women never see themselves as I do. I see pure beauty and they see the need for products to make themselves pretty enough to model. I see potential and they see celebrity ads that makes them feel like they could never get a certain gig because they are too big or too small or their hair isn't the right texture, or their nose is too big or teeth aren’t straight enough. Helping others have the opportunity to walk the runway for the first time, see themselves on TV,  and to experience many of the exciting things I did while working as a model brings me great joy, but what I love most is helping them see the TRUTH  about themselves. The truth about ALL of us. We are all beautiful in our own way. I love instilling confidence in aspiring talent that is so real they can't help but to teach it to others and make this world a more beautiful place, not artificially but in the true sense of the word. 

       
         Don't get me wrong, I totally encourage you to take care of yourself and look your best. I don’t think there is any harm in the occasional shopping trip for some new threads and beauty products, or that we should neversplurge on a beauty treatment here and there. (Just ask my husband hehe) And no, I don’t think it’s a sin to use snap chat filter. BUT let’s be aware of the brain washing that’s going on in our society, especially to females. Empower yourself by understanding the agenda of those beauty magazines and that entire industry. Sorry to break it to you but they don’t publish those magazines to make you feel better about yourself. The ugly truth is they publish the magazines and all other beauty ads to make you feel flawed, inferior, and in need of “fixing” so you will buy the products. And once you've got one trend down, boom, they change it up to again make you feel like you need more. It's not you boo, it's them! So break up with "them"! They are not worthy of your time, effort, money, concern, or happiness. They are liars. 

         I now have a little girl of my own who is just 2 years old and I can’t help but to look at her and swoon over her beauty. She has all these unique attributes that make her wonderfully her. Those little curly locks, her big bright eyes, the adorable little gap between her teeth, and my favorite, her cute little dimple chin. I couldn’t imagine her being more beautiful. I hope and pray that she doesn't buy the lies that are constantly sold to us from a young age. I hope and pray the same for you.

Don’t drink the Kool- Aid, as my husband would say, don't drink the Kool-aid. 

Angela G. Wright

@Ang______________

                                                                     The photo above is the photo I was talking about from that first photography work shop and below is from one of my college games no too long before that model shoot. 

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Proverbs 31:30

Parents of Expat Wives

 

     I haven't seen my parents in almost 9 months. Our daughter is 19 months old and has spent a mere 3 months in the same country as her grandparents. And if that isn't sad enough, we aren't even sure when we will be able to obtain an exit visa from Qatar so we can be reunited with them in the United States.

 

 (Doha, Qatar)

This is the life of an expat wife (a term I never even knew existed until a couple years ago).  Most people would say being a wife of an international professional basketball player sounds pretty glamorous. And well, I'd be lying if I said it didn't have some fabulous perks.  I am ever so grateful that my daughter,  my husband, and I and are making lifelong memories as we travel the world together. We have rare opportunities to experience other cultures in ways most people can only dream of. We are befriended by people of all nationalities, we savor cuisines that we may otherwise never know existed, we wear garments that will never make the shelves of American stores, we ride camels on the shores of the Persian Gulf, we trek along the incredible Great Wall of China, and we listen to multiple languages being spoken everyday. We even gave birth to our daughter in Doha, Qatar and I cherish everything mentioned more than words can express.

 

(Persian Gulf, Qatar)

 (The Great Wall of China, Beijing)

 

(Malate Church, Manila, Philippines)

    BUT- what about my parents?  What about all the parents who give their precious daughter's hand in marriage to a young man and then realize she is taking off to a foreign country to support her husband's career?  Their little girl has become an expat wife. 

She won't be home for Thanksgiving, Christmas or most holidays and gatherings. She is now in a time zone half a day ahead of them. She can't hop in her car and drive home to the safety of the ones who raised her. She can't call mom to bring over chicken soup when she is sick, or call dad to come change her flat tire. She can't sit by them during church services or hold their hands during prayer. She can't drop their adored grandchild off to be spoiled all weekend by memaw and pepaw. She is missed deeply and profoundly and it takes special people to be her parents.

 

 (My parents, aren't they cute?)

Obviously, the parents of young men who leave the country for their careers miss them deeply and don't have it easy. But, having a little girl of my own I have to say their must be a difference in seeing your son go off to follow his dreams and have a successful career in another country as opposed to seeing your daughter leave the country to support her husband as he follows his dreams. 

 

( GCC Tournament Dubai, UAE)

My remarkable parents poured most of their adult life into helping me achieve all my goals, especially when it came to basketball. They rebounded, took me to practices and games. They even made sure I was on the best teams and had every opportunity to go as far as possible in the sport our family loves. After a successful college basketball career I had an offer to go play professional basketball in Europe and would be scheduled to fly out 3 days later if I was to accept. Then suddenly, the game of basketball became of little importance to them because it meant their little girl would be living on the other side of the world for most of the year. With much advice and concern from my parents I didn't accept the offer and went on to pursue other goals of mine within the borders of the United States.  To be honest, it was almost too much for them to handle when I worked in NYC, LA, and ATL for that matter. 

 

(Don't mind the sweat band of the calf 😭)

Then, ironically, just a few years later here they were taking my husband and I to the airport to go live in Qatar for 9 months where he had signed to play the upcoming basketball season. Not only was this a country in the heart of the Middle East as media coverage of ISIS soared but I was 8 months pregnant. 

 

They didn't get to be there when our daughter Jincy Rose was born, they didn't even get to meet her until she was 8 months old. I'll never forget when we finally arrived back in Knoxville, TN and came out of the airport terminal to find them crying tears of joy.  We spent most of the summer with them, minus our trips to the Philippines, Beijing, and Indiana (where my husband is from) before heading back to Qatar for another basketball season. 

 

 (Some of Jincy's first steps in Hong Kong airport)

 

By this time they were oh so attached to their new pride and joy, their grand daughter, and letting us leave cut even deeper than the year before.  Somehow, though they are thousands of miles away, they have been our backbone through moving abroad. They surprise us with plenty of packages for everything from all three of our birthdays to Christmas and Easter. And sometimes just because we need my mom's "now" world famous chocolate chip cookies or they found something Jincy just "had to have". We can expect texts everyday checking on us and demanding pictures and videos of their grand daughter and grand dogs. They watch as many games online and heckle the refs from across the ocean. They pray for us daily and Skype with us every Sunday without fail. They hoard up gifts and toys for when we'll make it back home. Their love reaches across all those miles and we can feel them anxiously waiting for us to return. As I write this I just got a text from my mom asking what "her" Jincy is doing!  And an email from my dad saying 

    "Be smart, be wise and be careful. Oh dear Lord I pray for a safe and secure journey home for our babies. Oh Lord I thank you that they are your babies too and I know we can trust your mighty hand to be on them, around them and keep the wiles of the devil away. Please Lord hold them in the palm of your hand and bring them home safely and in a timely manner. We will certainly give you the praise and glory, Amen. Love!!! -Dad"

They support my husband in his career with genuine enthusiasm even though it has taken their daughter far from where they would like me to be and that means so much to me.

 

 (My dad and husband)

Thankfully, my very wise, caring, and thoughtful husband bought us the house right next door to my parents! So not only will we be able to spend our summers with them, we now can look forward to the abundant time we will have together when he retires. The house that we purchased is an old fixer upper. Needless to say, my parents and my grandpa have been working tirelessly on this project to make sure it's ready for us to live in by the time we make it home because having us rent a places a few minutes drive away would just be too far from them! I remember someone asked us why we chose that house when we could have found something "better". My husband and I looked at each other and smiled and said "nothing is better than living next door to Mom and Dad".  Yes, I know "he's a keeper!" ;)  

 

 

There are beloved daughters scattered all across the globe in the role of expat wives supporting our husband's career as our incredibly selfless and strong parents are back in America missing us, encouraging us, being there for us in ways that only they can. They truly give us the ability to continue on the path that God has set us on. In other words... "Hey parents of expat wives(especially mine), YOU ALL ARE THE REAL MVPs!! 

Many thanks to ALL of our family and friends who support us along the journey. Your love and prayers are felt and appreciated!

Hope to see you all soon!

Angela 

 

 

(Doha, Qatar)

 

 

 

(GCC Tournament, Dubai UAE)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ((Dubai, UAE)

Grace For a Season

FROM THE TOP: 

     When Angela first decided to help lead an online women's Bible study called "Bibles and Basketball", I was ecstatic for her, not to mention extremely proud of her for taking on such an important leadership position which demanded much of her time and devotion. From its outset I could tell how seriously she was taking the responsibilities of her role, especially when she hit me with THE RULES. Uh oh!!! Rules??? I can remember feeling my facial expressions change from one emotion to another, going through phases which probably resembled the best selection of emojis. Before my smile turned to a frown, she made it very clear to me that in order for this to work I had to follow THE RULES.  "Don't worry," she said, "there's only two and they're simple." #1 "Keep Two Eyes on Jincy" and #2 "Absolutely no listening in on calls" for the sake of privacy of the other women involved in the study, AKA GIRL TALK. I didn't know which of these two tasks would be more difficult. Jincy can be a little humming bird in the morning (FUN FACT: A hummingbird's heart can beat up to 1,400 times a minute). In other words, Jincy stays busy and I think that humming bird has met its match. 

 

On top of that, her and Angela are like magnets, two very strong magnets, especially when Jincy decides she's ready to eat. 

 

    Furthermore, being forbidden to listen to my favorite person talk about OUR favorite PERSON, Jesus, would be tough not to bend an ear to. But I promised to give my best, because this was important for the betterment of our family as well as for the Kingdom work at hand, and besides I am always up for a challenge.   

 

RECAP: 

    This has been a very special season for our family. Our second year in Qatar is coming to a close and I am more than happy to say that "We are more than HAPPY". God has been so good to us!  We've had the opportunity to witness our little Ms. Jincy Rose blossom into the most amazing little girl. At one year and a half, we've been amazed by her  progress. She loves to entertain  passing strangers, performing nearly  everything she knows in her own little act in which we've nicknamed "The Jincy Routine". No really, it's a full act, and she expects an applause after everything she does. Don't worry she doesn't charge admission, not yet anyways. 

 

She loves for us to read her books, she's memorized her ABC's and numbers 1-11, along with about 25 kids praise and worship songs (Thanks Mrs. Faye). Throw her THE ROCK (basketball) and she knows exactly what to do with it; dribble, pass, catch, and shoot. 

 

 

Are you surprised? Do I sound like a proud Dad yet? Nothing makes Angela and I more proud than when Jincy sings "Jesus Loves Me" and asks us to pray with her in the morning or before we eat meals. To hear her precious little voice say "amen" is nothing short of angelic. Believe me, I could go on and on and on about our Jincy and about God's grace.

 

 

Certainly, when I said this season has been special, I wasn't merely referring to this season of basketball, although that too has been highlighted by God's grace. Two major championships, Most Valuable Player, Import of the Year, and All First Team Honors were among the accolades I received.  

 

 

 

Clearly, the success I experienced on the court this year, and last year for that matter, has everything to do with what I have been blessed with off the court, the real SUPERSTAR of our family, what truly matters, and what's made not only this season but my life so special, my beautiful wife, Angela. 

 

LOOKING BACK: I must admit, two years ago I adopted a very selfish way of thinking, in that me and my job were responsible for the unique circumstances of living abroad, traveling the world, and the many other perks that go go along with being paid to do something I love to do. I didn't do this knowingly, nor out of arrogance, but rather in a sense of pride a man has in being able to provide for his family. Foolishly, I let this go to my head. Maybe I am being a bit harsh, but these are the words my heart wished to manifest the intensity of my convictions and the amount of indignation I now feel toward this self-centered and worldly way of thinking which couldn't be anything further from the truth. This could have been catastrophic to our family and prevented this beautiful season of life we find ourselves in today. 

 

THE PROCESS: But thank God for His  grace, in allowing me to recognize my warped way of thinking, and in my repentance He was able reveal His truth to me. Simply put, this is not about me or my job! And I am definitely not the only one working. If anything, Angela retains more job titles, carries more weight, and contributes more to our family in invaluable ways. Who sacrifices their own dreams in the support of another's? A loving wife does. Who has an innate capacity to care for a child in the midst of tireless days and restless nights? An amazing mother does. But those are not what she considers to be her jobs, she does them willingly and with love far beyond my love for the game of basketball. Shall I continue?  She's a friend, an advocate, counselor, trainer, motivational speaker, coach, business partner, and right now she's even my nurse as I recover from an injury. The list goes on and on. In times when I struggle and my confidence wavers she is my encourager. When pay checks don't come in for months at a time (yes that happens) as my praying partner she reminds me of our faith in who He is, Jehovah-Jireh "the Lord will provide". She willingly, in the love for her family, becomes anything and everything the time calls for her to be, but what I appreciate calling her more than anything, is calling her MY OWN. I am humbled to say, by the grace of God and the love my wife, THANK YOU.

 

 

 

THIS VERY MOMENT: After Jincy just did a 100 yard dash out of our bedroom, around the corner, and out of my sight, when I finally caught up to her in the front room she was already magnetically connected to her Momma "eating".  As I sit down on the other side of the room to catch my breath, I open up my Bible to do some studying of my own. I can't help but to overhear my wife as she prays over the final Bible study of the season. I can feel my heart pverflow with joy and it's taking all of my restraint to quietly praise God for the grace He's demonstrated to my wife and amongst this called group of women from around the world that's been brought together by their mutual faith in Jesus Christ, encouraging one another to seek out the prospect of virtue, honor, and glory all found in the Lord Jesus Christ. I am amazed at the work God has done and the love that's been poured out in this once group of strangers but now sisters in Christ connected by His Spirit. 

 

Through the many stories Angela has shared with me about these families, their trials, tribulations, triumphs, and similar circumstances, we've learned to appreciate our marriage and family, and have grown more intimate in our spiritual walk together. To the creator of this group, Megan, I thank God for using you to make this possible along with the other leaders for your faith in God and the love you showed my wife. I know I am not the only proud husband, but I think I speak for us all when I say, it sure is a blessing to have a virtuous wife. By God's Grace.

 

Sincerely, 

Dominic James Wright

Thanks as always for all the support, love, and prayers from near and far!

Here are more pictures from our time in Qatar, follow us on IG @NeekieWright & @Ang______________