On my first day as a fashion assistant, I faced whispers, judgment, and a dismissive boss, Aiden, who saw my size, not my talent. My confidence wavered as colleagues mocked me and Aiden dismissed me as unworthy. Despite this, I pushed through, determined to prove them wrong.
A turning point came when I noticed Aiden’s collection only catered to unrealistically small sizes. Confronting him earned nothing but more ridicule. Later, overhearing him say I was a “ruin to the company’s image” ignited my resolve. If he wouldn’t see my worth, I’d show him.
Before the debut runway show, I swapped Aiden’s collection with my own designs, made for all women, regardless of size. I recruited models with real, diverse bodies, standing by my vision.
As the show began, applause erupted, the audience celebrating true inclusivity. Aiden raged, demanding credit for my work. But when the announcer called for the designer, I stepped onto the runway in one of my creations.
The standing ovation was overwhelming. In that moment, I reclaimed my power, proving beauty transcends size and talent speaks louder than prejudice. Every tear, every sleepless night, was worth it.
