Leah Darrow, once an America’s Next Top Model contestant (2004), looks beyond physical beauty in an extract from her new book.
My decision to audition for America’s Next Top Model wasn’t exactly well thought out. In fact, I had only watched a few minutes of the previous cycle before I decided to audition in St Louis. And, to be honest, my dream in life wasn’t necessarily to become a fashion model; it was simply to be valued as a person. I think we all are born with that desire. We all want to be liked and wanted. But instead of looking to faith to help guide me and seeking acceptance and truth from the one who created me, I looked to the world for meaning. And I thought I had found it in Tyra and the TV show.
Standing in that room, waiting for Tyra’s selection, and believing I was so close to this very public form of validation was terrifying. What if I ended up getting this close and then didn’t get picked? What if, as I stood there hoping, she deemed me unworthy and passed me over? But then she said my name—“Leah Darrow”. I couldn’t believe it. I tried to play it cool, but she could see that I was totally shocked.
“Surprised?” she asked, as I took my spot with the other Cycle 3 contestants.
“Yeah, a little,” I said.
But it was more than just a little. I was a college graduate but still felt completely lost, unsure about who I was and where I was going. I was in that life stage where reality crashes in. During college, I was the star of the undergraduate psychology department, having received every award and graduating magna cum laude. My future had seemed bright. I thought after college I would land an amazing job, have a super cute studio apartment in the city, possibly with a small pet, and spend Saturday afternoons with my girlfriends drinking mimosas on the balcony. I had plans to be somebody. However, the reality was that after college I was working as an assistant manager for Hollister Co., living pay check to pay check, balancing student loans and overdue bills, and trying to keep up the act that I had it all together. Not exactly living the dream. My everyday routine made me wonder if all the inspirational messages I’d been told my whole life were true. And then Tyra Banks picked me.
When Tyra Banks called my name, in that moment I believed, subconscious though it might have been, that this meant I was worth more than I had been before. In my mind being chosen for America’s Next Top Model pointed to the truth that I was wanted, beautiful, and soon-to- be successful.
How could it not? I was about to appear on a popular TV show, my modelling career would take off as a result, and, if I won, I’d be valued even more than I could imagine.
But the reality, I discovered, was quite the opposite. Tyra’s choice didn’t make me happy. And America’s Next Top Model didn’t make me feel wanted, worthy, or beautiful. After all, being eliminated from the show in front of millions of viewers, as I would be a couple of weeks later, can certainly make someone feel unwanted, worthless, and ugly.
But what I’ve learned since that time is that Tyra wasn’t the problem. America’s Next Top Model wasn’t the problem either. The problem was that, for some time in my life, I had accepted imitation beauty and imitation love as the keys to my value and worth. I thought these things were the secret to finding and living a beautiful life.
When I arrived in New York, my picture from America’s Next Top Model was still on a billboard in Times Square and on the sides of taxicabs and subways, so I had a little leverage and was able to start booking modelling jobs. One of those jobs came from an international magazine. When I sat down with them, they told me they could see I had more to offer than the girl-next-door look; I could be sexy. I was flattered.
Here was the proof that I could still do it. Here was the validation that I was worthy, wanted, and beautiful. But when the day of the photo shoot arrived, something happened that changed my life forever. I encountered true beauty, my heavenly Father, in an unexplainable miraculous moment there on the photo shoot set.
In that moment I started to realize that I didn’t need to be famous be to known and loved by God. I didn’t need to win America’s Next Top Model or be put on the cover of a magazine to be deemed beautiful. God didn’t want to photoshop me. He saw me with all of my flaws and yet delighted in me. The beauty God had placed within me would not be brought out by lip gloss or concealer, but by kindness, generosity, and joy. And that was a better, deeper, and more lasting beauty than what I had been taught to chase after.
Deep inside I began to sense that God had a different design for my life. I didn’t know exactly what it was or how I was going to get there, but I suddenly knew without a doubt that he had a plan for me. And it was better than the way I was currently living. My heart was convinced in that moment that I was made for more; I was made to live out a life for God, not a life lived for myself alone.
The magazine staff was right. I did have more to offer. But it had nothing to do with my body measurements or taking a pretty picture.
I walked out of that photo shoot, never to return again to the modelling world.
Up to that point I had found my worth in the world and its definition of beauty, but it had only led me to despair. It was killing me emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Every photo shoot, every red-carpet event, every date with a new guy, every outfit I put on—all of it had been dependent on how I looked or how my life looked to others. My pursuit for happiness had been based on the exterior. But in doing this, I had neglected the deepest desire of my heart and had abandoned my faith—all because I was afraid God wouldn’t really give me the beautiful life I wanted so badly. I feared his path to happiness would be filled with boring days, not-cute guys, and possibly wearing itchy brown-plaid ensembles. No thank you! But I was mistaken.
I know I’m not the only one who has found herself seduced by imitation beauty. The promise of being and feeling beautiful has been whispered into the ears of millions of girls all over the world. The false promises of the beauty industry have led us to chase after a type of beauty that is unreachable. In my return to faith and reason, I’ve gradually come to understand that true beauty should always point to its original source and lead to the development of a beautiful soul. Surprisingly, this has little to do with glitter stilettos or fake eyelashes. Calvin Klein, Chanel, or Dolce & Gabbana do not dictate our worth. God alone does, and he sees us as “very good” (Gen. 1:31).
As I rebuilt my life after America’s Next Top Model and walked away from my modelling career, I realised that my worth actually comes from being made, known, and loved by God, and that I am called to a life of love, holiness, and beauty as a result. And that has nothing to do with the imitation beauty the world offers us.
Over the course of this book, together we will uncover the lies the beauty and fashion industry attempt to sell us and the impact these have on our lives as women, not only on how we think about our outward appearances, but also what we believe about our identities, relationships, and roles in the world. More importantly, we will find our way to the truth that we are beautiful, valued, and worthy of love. Not only do these truths change us, but through us, they can change the world.
Taken from The Other Side of Beauty by Leah Darrow Copyright © 2017 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission of Thomas Nelson. www.thomasnelson.com