Why the f*** would a trafficking survivor be competing for a Maxim Cover Contest?!
I was scrolling through Instagram one morning when my phone slipped out of my hand. In typical and clumsy Chelsea fashion, I’d clicked and deleted all kinds of things in the process and when I went back to the Instagram window, I found myself on Maxims Cover Girl Competition page, asking me if I was interested? I thought, Ha! And exited out of it. As I started my morning routine of strategically and methodically wand curling my hair without burning myself, I found my mind skittering back to the big blaring “Are You The Next Maxim Cover Girl of 2021?!” now branded in my brain from the ad id accidentally clicked on. Curiosity getting the best of me, I put the wand to the side and unlocked my phone to investigate this competition further.
As many know, before all of this “darkworld" ish happened 3-4 years ago, I dinked around with photoshoots and “modeling". I put quotes there because I think to claim that I’m a model, or that I ‘modeled’, at a giant, 5 foot 3 3/4 inch height that I am, that I just sound pretentious af and silly.
So I’ll just explain it as I really enjoyed the art of working with the photographers to plan the shoots and seeing our vision become reality, as well as the challenge and improvement I saw in posing and getting more comfortable and confident in front of a camera. Of course, the attention and flattery I got with every glossy, saucy and professionally provocative post, was a bonus.
But alas, times have since changed for me, and I look back on my social media whoreness (as I’ve deemed it), as a naive time in my life. Yes, I felt sexy and confident and I loved the attention I got from posting the pictures. After being made fun of for having a flat face my entire youth (a story for another time) and crying every day, not able to look myself in the mirror? Yeah, I can’t really blame old Chelsea for going off the deep end a bit… I was looking and feeling saucy and attractive for what felt like the first time in my life. It was amazing and felt like a super power, and I ran with it.
But again… hindsight is 20/20, and unfortunately those fun memories are now tainted by the set in thought I have now, which is that I was basically marketing and advertising myself to the whole world, not giving a second thought to whose eyes might be looking at my pictures in a much darker light than I ever could have imagined. In fact, I took all of the work out of it for the “bad guys”, because no one had to post ads in order to get me and my look, “out there" and seen… I was doing it all by myself, voluntarily. Maybe not on the same platforms, or with the same intention, but I was putting myself out there, none the less.
I am not the same woman I was back then… which will be made evident I’m sure, as my blog continues.
Where I loved the attention back then and soaked it in like a thirsty plant… I now despise and avoid. Where I used to post selfies every day, sometimes multiple times a day… seldom do I post now at all. I’ve largely limited others social media access to me and I’ve chopped my Facebook friends list from 5000, to roughly 300…
I find now, that being in public with large groups of people, where strangers can look at me for any number of reasons and any number of ways, it will 9x out of 10, trigger something in my PTSD, then just like that, BAM… I’m in fight or flight mode. I’m checking to make sure I’ve got something on me to defend myself if need be. I get a hard and cold energy going and I mean mug everyone thinking any one of them could be out to get me. It’s a truly unsettling, and breaking feeling, because I can acknowledge that I might be acting irrationally, but I can’t control the fear I have like I feel I should be able to, and I can’t make it just go away. One triggering moment, can set me back for weeks. And if I am truly honest and forthright, I can say that I’m not sure I’ll ever live as if I don’t have to be prepared to fight or run at any given time… I like that switch has been turned and stuck in the on position. Every day is a battle between my paranoia and fear vs my self-awareness and determination to take my life back under my control and become the woman I want to be again. Despite the debilitating state the constant pergatory in my mind puts me in… I have this stead fast, stubborn as hell, unwavering resilience. And some days I feel that so strongly, that I can use that as fuel for checking things off my list and kicking ass while doing it. I accepted that I’ll never be able to heal on my own and I need the help of both medication, as well as professional trauma therapists that specialize in CBT and EMDR. I went through SEVERAL interviews and finally got an amazing job where I’m surrounded by inspiring, powerhouse women. I’m making and keeping appointments (okay, not all… but many more than I WAS keeping, comparatively), and I’m in the process of getting my OWN place… finding my independence when I truly thought at one point I’d never see it again.
So back to it… Why in the hell, after everything you just said, would you want to be in a competition to be on the cover of a magazine that sells issues based off of the sex symbol plastered on the front?!
Well… several reasons.
For one: although I never want to fully embody the mindset I had when I was naively taking and posting all those boudoir pictures back in the day or mirror all the attention seeking I did… it breaks a part of my heart to feel and see such a drastic change from who I was then, to who I am now… to look and remember a time when I could laugh with friends, have not a care in the world, and post whatever without thought to consequences... to this woman who is scared shitless 90% of the time, doesn’t trust anyone, dyed her hair from blonde to dark in hopes of drawing less attention, and to no longer saying hello to strangers on the street or looking people in the eye. And rather than the always bubbly, smiling extrovert that I once was, I now tend to put on a tough and cold exterior to mask my fear… or make jokes, or distract myself in any and every way I can.
And it’s not fair.
I want my power back.
I want my life back.
I want to be able to relax and breathe again. I want to be able to unclench and not think the sky is falling at every moment. I want to not have to have an escape plan for any time I leave the house in order to feel mildly safe.
So… piece by piece and bit by bit, I am trying out and taking back qualities that I want back in my life. Or doing things that make me feel empowered or like I’m positively progressing forward.
Job ✔
Trauma therapy ✔
Trauma treatment & help from shelters ✔
Apartment of my own ✔
Figuring out how I can take the experiences that broke me, and make a difference in the world… ✔
And here we are back at… *drum roll please*, WHY I’m competing to be on the cover of Maxim Magazine…
(I’m copy and pasting most of what’s written below from the Facebook event I created and invited the world to a week ago)
I qualified for this years Maxim Cover Contest and besides the cover and spread, I could win 25k!
If you’re reading this and have been even semi in the loop with the chaos that’s been my life the last 4 years, you’re no doubt wondering why in the hell a trafficking survivor would be putting herself in the limelight for a 'sex sells' sort of magazine.
Let me explain... I’m taking the irony of the situation and the truth that 'Sex Sells' and turning it on its head/taking my power back. The cover might be what catches the eyes and gets me in the spotlight, but the spread is where I use that 15 minutes of fame, as my platform to use my voice and spread awareness.
What exactly would I do with the money?
I’d pay for a year long lease at my apartment so I don’t have to worry about having a roof over my head, purchase a cheap car to help me get to and from my job (the bus is just a time sucker), and pay a year in advance for my business' website fees.
Oh, and a butt load of yarn ;)
MOST importantly: I’d get together with people like the owner of the popular food bank here in the city, as well as the CEO and advocates of REST Shelter: Real Escape from the Sex Trade, to brain storm how best to invest the remaining money in helping the homeless and starting support groups, etc for those, and victims of human trafficking.
Fun fact? For as many support groups as there are nationwide, for AA, NA & CODA, there is not even ONE support group for trafficking survivors.
At least from my experience, a desire/NEED to have a connection to others that can relate to the trauma bonds, the PTSD, the constant fear, the permanently inlayed trust issues- would make all the difference in the world.
To have a support group where there are safe places to share, be heard, and feel validated and like our wellbeing truly matters to someone... that we’re not alone and are understood, would be a game changer. It would save lives.
Because what we have instead… is women turning to drugs to numb their pain and cope with the feelings of isolation and lonliness… or, killing themselves because they don’t feel there are any other options.
I know I’ve reached my lowest of lows and wanted to end it all because I couldn’t keep going on like that and what was the poiny when my quality of life felt shot to hell and back…
The reality is there is a dire need for other options. Don’t you think? These men and women, who have lost their voices, and walk amongst us as mere shells of the people they used to be, need help.
It would truly mean everything to me if you all would take the time to invite others to this 'event’, share this or something similar on your page (you’ll no doubt reach more people than I will with how much I’ve had to distance myself over the years), and vote for me. You can vote for free 1x every 24 hours and the it’s a dollar a vote after that.
If I win, you have yourself to thank, for feeling strongly enough about this matter to actively show support and hopefully, be part of a movement.
‐-------------
https://maximcovergirl.com/2021/chelsea-newland
