I starved myself and considered surgery to get 'model-worthy' cheekbones

There was a moment in 2019 when I was shooting for a student fashion designer brand and I’d deliberately not eaten breakfast – I’d only drunk four litres of water.

Alongside my diuretics concoctions to flush out my body, I was exhausted. 

I felt terrible, but the photographer told me how good I looked and how I was perfect for fashion modelling. It made me feel confused, but at the same time validated that I was supposedly doing the right thing.

I can’t even remember exactly what I was wearing – as my memory was terrible due to the lack of energy – but my physique was exactly what they wanted. I was super thin, gaunt face and my collar bones were showing, which I’d starved myself daily to achieve.

While I was seemingly ticking so many boxes on the outside, there was a battle internally I was going through. And it was destroying me, so I had to walk away from it all.

I was first scouted as a model at a local cultural event in 2013, where a photographer told me I had a great look and would love to shoot me. I had nothing to lose so I agreed.

The shoot was nerve-wracking, yet exciting – it was on the street, where I wore smart casual clothing.

I then used the photos from that to apply to modelling agencies. I was rejected – yet I lost nothing as I had zero expectations.

But once I have an idea in my head, I can’t be deterred by knock backs.

Going back to my studies, people kept mentioning that I should try again. It affirmed me, so I took a different route – I networked, including speaking to everyone in the fashion and commercial modelling world I could.

I set more time aside to do photoshoots as well. I bought more clothes to show off the different styles and looks I could demonstrate in my portfolio.

This time, I was successful, yet I had many people commenting on the roundness of my face – and how I clearly ‘had a high cheekbone structure’. Professionals told me that, if my cheekbones were more noticeable, I would get more work.

So I internalised that – I felt that my cheekbones were not good enough at all, so I decided to take action by starving myself of food and drinking a huge amount of water.

I also used Google for research, which is where I found out about different techniques to flush my body of all excess liquids so that I looked more lean. All of this to keep my body fat low and prevent water retention. 

During this time, I had interest from international agencies – from Nigeria to New York – for high fashion modelling, catwalks, editorials and working with high profile brands. Temporarily, such huge interest made me feel enough.

It made me believe I was doing something right, it was all the positive affirmation that I thought I needed. Unfortunately, this interest in me only added further fuel to the fire as to why I should have cheekbones.

I could only achieve it through restricted obsessive dieting, which – in the long run – was incredibly unhealthy. 

Remarkably, I even attempted to lift weights with barely any calories in my system. Having muscles with my cheekbones was the new ideal.

I was competing with the Love Island-looking boys, so the gym became my second home, or the ‘sanctuary of necessary suffering’, as I named it.

As I saw my cheekbones becoming more defined, I felt my goals were getting closer and closer. I even modelled in Vogue Italia, which was amazing.

At one point, buccal fat removal seemed to be the answer. It’s a cosmetic procedure, where doctors remove fat between your cheekbone and jawbone.

Celebrities such as Chrissy Teigen have had the procedure and I seriously considered it.

In the end, I decided to not have the procedure as I did not have the money, and I realised having the operation would not take away the actual insecurity there.

Regardless of how I felt on the inside – tired and in a low mood – I had people stop me on the street and say I should model.

Then when Covid-19 began, modelling jobs were few and far between so I began to put on weight in order to increase muscle. But this felt impossible with casting directors telling me to keep my cheekbones on top of that.

It was at this point that something in me changed. My mind became clear that it was time to leave the industry. So I did, and that’s when I realised how destructive it was to my sense of self, my physical self and my mental health.

Looking back, it was scary how obsessed I was with having a slim face. In my head, it equalled symmetry, which is an age-old standard of beauty.

Eventually, I accepted that my face is the way it is for a reason, and I had to stop forcing this impossible, unhealthy change. I never sought therapy for the disordered eating I had though, I just tried to come to terms with it myself and have reckoned heavily with my past.

Suddenly, having a naturally round, chubby face was no longer the negative I created it to be. How? By coming to terms with the fact we are all made differently. As cliché as it sounds, I had to love myself for the fact I am different. 

Starving myself in the past has meant it now remains harder to lose fat, as my body has been used to trying to hold onto what I have.

When people comment on how different I look or that they prefer me slimmer, it comes back into my mind that I am not enough. I just try to bat away the thoughts and no longer care for anyone’s applause or affirmations. 

Thankfully, my relationship with food and exercise is healthier now. I’ve removed the pressure to have a perfect face or body, still maintaining the love for my face, body and the gym – I’ve finally found a happy medium.

The thing that tormented me, I have now grown to love. I accept myself regardless of how puffy my face is and I love myself if I have cheekbones or not. 

If you’re struggling with your body image, I know the pain. Open up, and be honest with people – I wish I’d spoken up sooner.

Instead, I bottled everything inside and replaced it with people’s acclaim and applause. But at the end of the day, the deafening silence within was the loudest. 

In a system that teaches us to love everything else, loving yourself is a revolutionary act.

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