“How you love yourself is how you teach others to love you.”-Rupi Kaur
In 2022, I worked on a Hulu TV series in New York City. I’ve always loved working in the city it’s such an adventure from my normal life. The walkability is great, but the constant sirens? Not so much. My hotel room had a view of the Statue of Liberty, which I savored. Back home, my view is mostly trees and deer peaceful, yes, but Lady Liberty has a certain charm that woodland creatures just can’t compete with.
When I got the call for this job, it wasn’t your standard, Hey can you take a fall down some stairs kind of gig. Instead, the stunt coordinator asked how well I could swim and if I was okay being trapped underwater in a pool covered by glass. My anxiety was not thrilled, but in this business, everything sounds more dramatic than it is. Most of the time.
(Rehearsing the pool stunt setting up the roller glass to trap me under)
But here was the second uncomfortable question. First time in 13 years (at that point) I ever been asked: please do not to shave my armpits. Yup, you heard that right. Don’t. Shave. Your. Pits. In the heat of a New York summer, no less. Suddenly, the underwater entrapment part sounded like a vacation.
And if that wasn’t enough, they also told me not to shave my legs. You have to match the actress, they said. Sure, why not? Apparently, I’d be doubling for an actress who had never met a razor in her life. So, I took on this hairy challenge not just the being trapped under glass in a pool part but the even scarier part: walking around with hairy legs and armpits.
At my fitting, the make-up team asked if I’d been growing out my body hair. I said yes, though it was a bit like being in a very niche horror movie. The actress I was doubling for was my height at 5’9, but a size 0. I was pushing a size 1-2 at the time. Sharing clothes meant I had to watch what I ate in the weeks leading up to the shoot, which is a special kind of torture when you’re surrounded by crafty and catering that seem designed to sabotage your career.
(In wig and costume for the fight scenes!)
Now, wardrobe departments are a mixed bag. Sometimes they’re cool, sometimes not. This time, I drew the short straw. The pants fit, but they were a little snug compared to the actress. Cut to the drama: I heard later they told the stunt coordinator I was too fat for the actress. Which is annoying because when I was in full costume and wig, even the crew and other actors couldn’t tell us apart. Honestly, that’s the best kind of feedback a stunt person can get for job security! Especially on a TV series.
Did the too fat comment bother me? Sure it did. They got to my head. I questioned it for a few days, “was I too fat?” But then I decided I wasn’t and to kill them with kindness (and a few blank stares). The entertainment industry can be a breeding ground for unsolicited opinions. Too fat, too skinny, too short, too tall, too whatever. At some point, you just have to tune it out.
On set, I wore a sweatshirt, pants, and the most awesome 80s high-tops. I still had time to grow out my hair for the pool scene. After a week of rehearsing the underwater stunt (it was a horror show, after all), the makeup department finally came to inspect my body hair.
(My super sweet kicks and hella comfortable)
It’s not long enough, they said. We’ll have to add it in post.
Excuse me?! After weeks of not shaving, avoiding tank tops, and holding my arms down like I was concealing a small pet, my natural growth wasn’t cutting it. They were going to CGI my armpit and leg hair. All that discomfort for nothing. Of course. Comes with the job.
The first thing I did after we wrapped was grab a razor. Shaving felt like coming home. Honestly, I’d rather be trapped under glass in a pool than endure hairy pits in the summer heat again.
The stunts went well, though I haven’t seen the show yet. We don’t get Hulu down in Costa Rica. Despite the grumpy wardrobe folks, I really did enjoy working on the show.
My favorite part about any indoor, or controllable water scene (minus a pond, lake or Ocean), they always have the water nice and warm so it’s comfortable to be in for long periods of time and that you don’t see goose bumps on camera.
This industry will either push you toward self-love or straight into a downward spiral. My first five years were tough audition after audition, job after job, always hearing I wasn’t quite enough. You have to have thick skin in the biz. THICK. But not too thick so you aren’t “too fat.” I kid, I kid. But at some point, I just stopped caring…kind of. It’s never really easy to hear things about you that aren’t “good enough.” But you learn to expect it, detach from it and move on a lot quicker.
Too fat? No problem. Too hairy? CGI it. Problems solved.
In the end, I learned that the real stunt is surviving this industry with your sanity (and your razor) intact.
My advice
Mastering self-love in the film industry or any industry, really is all about building thick skin and releasing the weight of others opinions. It starts with knowing your worth beyond the roles, the rejections, and the whispers behind the scenes. You have to ground yourself in who you are, not who someone else thinks you should be. Embrace your quirks, celebrate your wins (big or small), and find humor in the absurdity of it all because, trust me, there will be plenty of absurdity. When criticism comes, let it slide off like water off a duck’s back. The key is to stay so solid in your own truth that no one else’s version of you can shake it. In this business, you might need a thick skin, but that doesn’t mean you harden your heart. Stay soft, stay kind, and most importantly, stay true to you.
“Be yourself. An original is so much better than a copy.”-Unknown
