Growing up, I had my mom to look up to; J. Lo and Marilyn Monroe were notable curvy women. But I didn't have anyone with cellulite or back fat telling me they didn't care.

As a professional selfie taker, I know my angles. And I know how to look 20 lbs. heavier and 20 lbs. lighter. If Instagram wants to tell me I've lost 60 lbs. in one week, then damn, I look good.

I remember being told by my very first photographer that if I lost weight, and I was a skinny model, it would do wonders for my career. My mum got really defensive - 'I don't think we will be doing that, thank you so much, goodbye.'

Back in Nebraska, I was known as the fat model - the girl who was pretty for a big girl. My body, like my confidence, has been picked apart, manipulated, and controlled by others who didn't necessarily understand it.

There's the wonder of being able to do research from your own living room, of course. I do find that my biggest research issue, though, is how to frame my questions.

We live in a world that tells us not to care, to consume everything in sight. It tells us that being cool and being an individual actually means buying what everyone else is buying and doing what everyone else is doing.

A lot of black women still carry a lot of pain when they see black men with women who aren't black, and that's really unfortunate that that could make us so upset. It has to do with self esteem.

I don't ever feel like I'm being an actor.