Blogcast 

19.11.2023

Blog 6: The struggle of being a Model and Social Worker

My last blog was about what inspired but mostly triggered my humanitarianism and social work activities. This blog will focus on my experience as a social worker while being a public figure through modeling.

I’m writing this as a relative and sister of children whose lives were greatly affected by the child protective system. No NDA is going to change my stance on this. Besides that, the “conflict of plights” is on my side. (I learned that at school) 

After moving back to my dad’s home from the traumatic experience in France with the child protective service, my dad’s family was going through difficult times.  The house went up for sale, and they moved to Belgium.

I wasn’t ready for another adventure. I picked up my modeling activities and rented a room in Amsterdam, paying for it with the money I received from modeling. Besides that, I had no financial support, and I wasn’t 18 yet, so I could not get any financial government assistance. 
It’s impossible to go to school full-time and make enough money to support myself and my younger siblings, who I reconnected with at that time, with a regular supermarket job of 4 euros per hour.

Now I’m wondering why these institutions that were hosting my siblings would firstly allow me to carry that burden, knowing I’m a kid myself, and secondly, how it came that my siblings looked completely neglected while THEY are the ones that should have the means to take care of certain things… Rhetorically speaking, of course.

So when I finally finished college and followed my dad to Belgium in 2016, only to leave in 2019, I was in a part of my life where I actively wanted to feel like I contributed to something.
That feeling deepened with the passing of my foster mom in 2018, whom I never had the chance to rekindle our bond with. Besides that, the (fashion) modeling industry wasn’t the easiest place to roam; we didn’t have all the diversity campaigns that we now have

In Belgium, I enrolled in a European fashion modeling competition.  I ended up in the top 10. (Or maybe top 5 because my name was called in 4th place, but whatever). 
After going through 2 years of investing all my time, money, and energy in that, I heard from one of the organizers after the finals that I wouldn’t stand a chance anyway because, besides the fact that I’m tall and pretty, I’m black, and my hips are too wide. Well, thanks for wasting my time, right?  I kinda gave up on the fashion industry after that and switched to the controversial fine art nude scene. 
I do have a feeling that the fact that I had fine art nudes coming out during the competition wasn’t a good idea at the time. It was so funny the day of the finals, when people were acting a bit awkwardly towards me. 

To be honest, after the competition, everyone started to become awkward towards me. At the time, I didn’t really understand because I really saw fine art nude modeling as an art form, and in my mind, there was nothing sexual or pornographic about it. 
Although I was still doing fashion stuff, I became alienated. And I eventually accepted that I was now an “alternative”. I no longer told people I was a model, I started to refer to myself as an artist. 
Even though people would always ask or tell me how, with my appearance, I belong on the runway, I have to explain why I’m not and relive those experiences every time. 

I went from being bragged about by people who personally knew me to being hidden. Some would only show love online but act brand new in real life, others would support me privately and act like they don’t see my stuff online. And romantically, I went from ideal daughter-in-law to side chick material in the eyes of men. 
My time, energy, knowledge and financial support were still very welcome and appreciated by everyone. 
It just lacked gratitude.
People and my relatives were embarrassed about me. I became quite isolated. That’s why you mostly see me alone. I’m a popular loner.

Yes, I’m completely aware of how I’m being viewed and the consequences of that.

Although, a lot of things changed when I started to get some traction in the fine art scene, which resulted in me being suspicious about peoples motives.

Anyway, I thought working in the community in foster care, which my younger siblings were still involved in, would allow me to help make a change in the system. So I would think
Nothing was further from the truth. I got a job in foster care as a host. I lived with 2–3 teenagers, whom I had to supervise. So I was a foster mom, just without the title. And I think that was the problem, because there were no boundaries to what I was supposed to expect to do.
I ended up again taking on the mother role instinctively, like with my siblings, but I always felt like it was not what they wanted for the kids. I always felt like these children were seen as burdens that no one knew what to do with.

And with me experiencing all this while working and living within Forster Care, it made me upset for my siblings, whom I see struggling because of the support they never get.  So, as y’all might expect, I started to speak up. You all know that’s never appreciated.

Here I was, overburdened with a job that I got into with good intentions. I dedicated my time, energy and resources to it, only to feel like I was being sabotaged, which resulted in me being worried about my overall safety.
And in the meantime, I am an artist (model) and public figure trying to work on and build my career while also having to look after my siblings that are still roaming in the system and are codependent on me. 

And as much as I separated my public life from my private life, it started to become intertwined, as you can only do that for so long. And children will only believe and trust you if you can show them the evidence of the outcome that your advice is promising.
So whenever I am supposed to rally for modeling rights in public, I have to consider how that will affect my private life.
At the same time, when something bad happens publicly in my modeling career and I don’t stand up for myself, it affects those who see themselves in me and have an incline of hope left that they have a fair chance of following their dreams. 

My time as a social worker in foster care, combined with the rise of my modeling career from 2019-2022  (during the pandemic), was the most vulnerable state in my life up until now.
From 2020 until early 2023, I was going through life on autopilot until my reserve tank was completely empty.  After my 3-year contract ended, I was burned out and suffering from anxiety.
Even though I had to keep working and putting out fine art projects since I am my only support system, I invested in my own business endeavors with money that I had to work three times as hard for.

The words “handouts” or “sponsorship” weren’t in my dictionary. Plus, I’m not with the shady shit. Maybe that’s why I can speak freely and others can’t and have to wait on people like me to say something.

I’m going to sound very wavy, but the only way I found peace with giving up on the child protective system helping these kids is by believing that, the same way God made a way out for me, he will do it for them too.
God knows how society treats children without a family or support system.

And to my beloved bible thumpers, I believe it’s also mentioned in the Bible how orphans (and widows) are protected by God, and those that remove food and resources from their mouths will have to answer for that.

I put that on everything.

And if the idea that parents or relatives have to take responsibility for their children gets thrown around, do everyone a favor and shut everything down. Nobody benefits from half-assed work from a bunch of people who learn out of a book and are completely out of touch with reality. That looks more like a money grab to me.  And no, no more meetings. 
Lord knows I tried. It is time for a change.

C’estMabelleVictoire™