Hunter McGrady is known as Sports Illustrated Swimsuit’s “curviest model ever.” But this milestone and other achievements weren’t enough to keep haters away. Now, she speaks about how she deals with them.
Meet Hunter McGrady.
Hunter McGrady is an American model and body positivity advocate renowned for her work in the fashion industry. Her breakthrough moment came in 2017. She was selected through an open casting call to appear in the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue, making her debut as one of the magazine’s curviest models ever. This achievement marked a significant step in her career and highlighted her commitment to challenging conventional beauty standards.
McGrady’s influence extends beyond modeling. She is a vocal advocate for mental health, self-love, and body diversity. Through interviews, social media, and public appearances, she encourages people to embrace their bodies and reject unrealistic societal expectations.
The pivotal moment of her life.
McGrady’s career began as a model at the age of 15, during which she faced significant pressure to maintain a size two, leading to personal struggles with body image and self-acceptance. In a recent interview, she remembered that once she grasped the fact that being a slim fit wasn’t going to be her journey, she let herself live and be happy. Over time, she transitioned to plus-size modeling, finding her niche and voice in promoting body positivity and inclusivity within the fashion world.
It wasn’t an easy journey.
The Los Angeles native admitted that the road to acceptance was long, but therapy played a crucial role in her journey to self-love. She emphasized the importance of appreciating what our bodies can do rather than focusing on societal pressures to look a certain way.
“I think what Sports Illustrated is doing — celebrating all bodies — is so powerful. They’re doing the work. Especially right now when we’re entering this weird era, celebrating thinness,” McGrady noted.
But she keeps receiving negative comments about her body.
“No matter what you do, you’re going to get hate,” McGrady shrugged. “But you’re also going to get love. Negative comments or anybody who shames someone about their body? That’s so boring. Get something better to talk about.”
She emphasizes that criticism and negativity are inevitable, but so is support and appreciation. For McGrady, the act of body-shaming is tiresome and unproductive, reflecting more on the critic than the person being targeted. She encourages people to find more meaningful and positive topics of discussion, shifting focus away from superficial judgments.
Her message to plus-sized women.
McGrady stresses that self-love is the foundation of true confidence and resilience. Despite setbacks and challenges, the continuous effort to nurture self-love is crucial. Without it, external achievements and changes hold little significance.
“Confidence is not linear. It’s a climb,” she mentioned.
As the 60th-anniversary issue of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit hits newsstands, McGrady’s cover serves as a powerful reminder that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. Through her journey and advocacy, she continues to inspire and promote a more inclusive and accepting view of beauty in the fashion industry and beyond.
I Came Home from Vacation to Find a Huge Hole Dug in My Backyard – I Wanted to Call the Cops until I Saw What Was at the Bottom
When I cut short our vacation due to Karen falling ill, the last thing I expected was to find a massive hole in our backyard upon returning home. Initially alarmed, I hesitated when I spotted a shovel inside, leading me into an unexpected adventure involving buried treasure, newfound friendship, and lessons in life’s true values.
Karen and I rushed back from the beach early after she fell ill. Exhausted but wary, I decided to check the house’s perimeter before settling in. That’s when I stumbled upon the gaping pit in our lawn.
“What’s this?” I muttered, approaching cautiously.
At the bottom, amid scattered debris, lay a shovel. My first instinct was to call the police, but then I considered the possibility that the digger might return, knowing we were supposed to be away.
Turning to Karen, who looked unwell, I suggested keeping the car hidden in the garage to maintain the appearance of absence.
As night descended, I kept vigil by a window, watching and waiting. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a shadow vaulting over our fence.
Heart pounding, I ventured out with my phone ready to call the authorities. Approaching the pit, I heard the clink of metal on earth.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, shining my phone’s light into the hole. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The figure looked up, squinting. My jaw dropped—it was George, the previous owner of our house.
“Frank?” he stammered, equally surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, remember?” I retorted. “What are you doing in my yard in the middle of the night?”
George climbed out, looking sheepish. “I can explain. Just… please don’t involve the police.”
Arms folded, I demanded an explanation.
“My grandfather owned this place,” George began, “and I recently discovered he hid something valuable here. I thought I’d dig it up while you were away.”
“You broke into my yard to hunt for treasure?” I couldn’t believe it.
“I know how it sounds,” George pleaded, “but it’s true. Help me dig, and we’ll split whatever we find.”
Despite my better judgment, I agreed. Over hours of digging, we shared stories, George revealing his hardships—a lost job and his wife’s illness. His hope for this treasure to change their lives touched me.
As dawn approached, our optimism dwindled with each shovel of dirt revealing nothing but rocks and roots.
“I was so sure…” George’s disappointment was palpable.
Offering a ride home, we filled the pit and drove to his house, where his wife, Margaret, greeted us anxiously.
“George! Where have you been?” Margaret exclaimed, eyeing me curiously.
Explaining the situation, George’s dream of buried treasure was deflated by Margaret’s reality check.
“My grandfather’s tales were just that—stories,” she gently reminded him.
Apologizing, George and Margaret offered to repair our yard. I declined, suggesting they join us for dinner instead.
Driving home, I shared the night’s escapade with Karen, who teased me about my unusual night with a stranger. Reflecting on our conversation, I proposed inviting George and Margaret for dinner—an unexpected outcome from a night of digging for imaginary treasure.
As I assessed the yard in daylight, I realized life’s treasures aren’t always what we seek but the connections we forge along the way.
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