I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t in front of a camera. As a child, I modelled for catalogues and magazines, and for a while, that world felt like home. But as I grew older, education took priority, and my modelling days faded into the background. It wasn’t until my twenties that I found my way back, this time drawn to the alternative and pin-up scenes.

Then life threw me a curveball. My health took a turn, and the medication I was prescribed led to significant weight gain. I felt lost, disconnected from an industry that had once embraced me. It was only when I met a plus-size model who reassured me that my weight didn’t define my worth that I found my way again. Inspired, I stepped into the world of plus-size modelling with renewed enthusiasm, securing publications, walking in fashion shows, and even landing international bookings. Being part of the movement to increase visibility for plus-size bodies was something I was deeply proud of.

Now, in my forties and as a mother, I’m returning once more—this time with an even stronger conviction. I truly believe there is a place for everyone in this industry, regardless of age, size, or ability.

Of course, being a disabled plus-size model hasn’t come without challenges. Accessibility is still a major issue. While awareness is growing, many studios, catwalks, and events remain inaccessible. Using a walking frame for many years, I faced countless barriers that made participating in photoshoots and runway shows nearly impossible. It’s frustrating that change has been so slow, but I’m heartened by the progress I now see.

I refused to simply endure these challenges—I tackled them head-on. I’ve learnt to be upfront about my needs from the outset, ensuring that the spaces I work in are accommodating. It meant turning down opportunities where accessibility wasn’t prioritised, but it also meant the events I did attend were with people who genuinely valued inclusivity and provided unwavering support. On difficult days, when self-doubt crept in, those people reminded me that I still had a place in this industry.

One of the most defining moments of my career came in 2018 when I was crowned Miss Alternative Model of the Year. It was my first pageant using a walking stick, and at the time, I was on heavy pain medication and seriously considering giving up on modelling altogether. I’d let my disability dictate my future, convinced that I was nearing the end of my journey. Winning that title changed everything. It reignited my passion and gave me a purpose beyond just modelling—I wanted to use my platform to advocate for people like me. To this day, the most rewarding part of my work is hearing from others who have found the confidence to step in front of the camera because of my story. That is what keeps me going.

If there’s one piece of advice I could give to anyone starting out in modelling, it’s this: know your worth, set boundaries, and never compromise your comfort for the sake of fitting in. Too many newcomers feel pressured to do shoots or styles that make them uneasy out of fear that saying ‘no’ will harm their chances. It won’t. The industry is vast, with countless opportunities to carve your own path. You don’t need to conform to succeed.

When it comes to my own style, I’ve always been drawn to the alternative scene, but vintage fashion holds a special place in my heart. I grew up watching classic MGM musicals, mesmerised by the iconic, showstopping designs of the era. There’s something about a well-fitted dress that captures the glamour of old Hollywood, and I try to channel that in my everyday style.

Outside of modelling, I remain deeply involved in the industry through my work as a photographer and lighting technician at Beyond Quirks, a creative space I co-founded with my partner. We built it with a mission—to create a safe and inclusive environment where unique talents are nurtured and celebrated.

Returning to modelling after becoming a mother was daunting. It wasn’t just about the physical changes—parenthood shifts your entire sense of self. My hormones had changed, my goals had evolved, and I had to rediscover who I was. But I didn’t come back just for myself. I came back to show that despite the narratives society places on us, we can still chase our dreams. We can still make an impact. We can still stand tall, proud of who we are and what we represent.

And if that inspires just one person to believe in themselves, then every step of this journey has been worth it.