From Katee Sackhoff:
If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t just hug this young woman. I’d shake her awake.
This shoot broke something in me. I’ve mentioned it before, but here’s the raw truth: A wardrobe person called me “the big girl.” Out loud. Like it was normal. Like it was fine to say that to someone’s face. I was handed one outfit, because nothing else would fit my massive size 6/8 frame. I felt humiliated. Exposed. Disgusting.
The worst part? This wasn’t rare. It was everywhere. Baked into the industry. Normalized. Passed off as “part of the job.”
I was 25, just hoping to be seen for my work. Not defined by my body.
When I look at this photo, I don’t see sexy. I see a kid holding back tears, pretending to be okay, trying not to fall apart.
And I believed them. I believed I was the “big girl.” Because I’d been hearing it since I was 17. Quiet judgments. Whispers. A studio exec telling my manager I needed to lose weight. It was always there. This shoot wasn’t the first time, it was just the first time someone said it out loud so I could hear.
So I did what I always did: overtrained, deprived myself, punished my body. Hoping if I just shrank enough, I’d finally be enough.
That woman? She probably forgot what she said five minutes later. But I never did.
If I could go back now, I’d say: No. You don’t get to define me. You don’t get to shrink me. And you sure as hell don’t get to act like I should be grateful for the bare minimum.
I’d remind that 25 year old she was Starbuck. Strong. Iconic. Unapologetic. And she mattered.
It took time. Therapy. Real work to unlearn the lies. But I know better now.
And now I’m raising a daughter of my own. A little girl I will make damn sure never questions her
worth because of a clothing tag. She will know she’s strong, powerful, allowed to take up space, and worthy. Always. I’ll teach her to prioritize health and strength, not shrinking herself to fit someone else’s idea of enough.
Because I deserved better.
And so does she.
