When I was young, I wanted to be a model. I used to imagine myself on magazine covers or advertising a product. I really thought I’d be good at it.
I remember calling the Barbizon Modeling School in Boston, MA. I must have been around 10 years old. The woman was so nice to me, telling me all about the school. But because of my age I needed an adult to sign for me to attend.
It also cost money that I knew that my parents couldn’t afford. So I went to my grandmother. She certainly would have had the money but she told me she couldn’t support me in a modeling career. She felt that it wasn’t good for a child. I remember her telling me that I wouldn’t be able to eat certain things because I would have to maintain a certain weight. That I wouldn’t be able to go out in the sun. That my life wouldn’t be my own. She wasn’t being mean, she really thought that it wasn’t a good choice for me.
Today I still wish I would have been given that opportunity. I wonder how different my life would have been.
I know what you mean. I have wondered the same thing. I turned down a modeling job for a designer in New York. My husband asks me, Why?! A friend told me she knew someone who took the job and ended up a drug addict… What ifs are fun to consider as writer’s. 😊 I’m enjoying your writing! Nice to connect—