Amy Bream (@onelegtostandon), 26, is not an amputee: She was born with a birth defect on her right leg that requires her to use a prosthesis. “I've always been stubborn so I didn't let my prosthesis get in the way of living life, but I shied away from the gym or any sort of sport,” she tells SELF via email. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In 2014, after college, Bream moved to Nashville and a friend introduced her to kickboxing at TITLE Boxing. She quickly fell in love. “At first I was doubtful and somewhat terrified,” Bream tells SELF. “I had actually never tried to kick before in my life. I always assumed I could never balance well enough.” With the help of a personal trainer, Bream learned how to properly train with her prosthesis and adapt movements as needed. “It's an incredible feeling to realize that I'm improving on things that I never thought were possible before,” she says. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Beyond just increasing her physical strength, kickboxing boosted Bream’s mental strength and confidence. “Kickboxing has helped me embrace my body the way it is, rather than wishing it was different and assuming I can't participate,” she says. “I realized it's OK to try something and look different when doing so. There's nothing wrong with that.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Bream uses her Instagram and blog to process the emotions she’s felt in her journey, but also to educate people—like those who've become amputees and anyone just curious about prosthetics. “I think a lot of people want to learn more, but they are afraid to ask a person with a prosthesis certain questions because they're not sure how they will respond,” Bream says “Hopefully my blog (at least in some small way) can help bridge that gap.” Video and photo: @onelegtostandon | □: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on May 24, 2018 at 11:59am PDT
Amy Bream (@onelegtostandon), 26, is not an amputee: She was born with a birth defect on her right leg that requires her to use a prosthesis. “I've always been stubborn so I didn't let my prosthesis get in the way of living life, but I shied away from the gym or any sort of sport,” she tells SELF via email. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In 2014, after college, Bream moved to Nashville and a friend introduced her to kickboxing at TITLE Boxing. She quickly fell in love. “At first I was doubtful and somewhat terrified,” Bream tells SELF. “I had actually never tried to kick before in my life. I always assumed I could never balance well enough.” With the help of a personal trainer, Bream learned how to properly train with her prosthesis and adapt movements as needed. “It's an incredible feeling to realize that I'm improving on things that I never thought were possible before,” she says. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Beyond just increasing her physical strength, kickboxing boosted Bream’s mental strength and confidence. “Kickboxing has helped me embrace my body the way it is, rather than wishing it was different and assuming I can't participate,” she says. “I realized it's OK to try something and look different when doing so. There's nothing wrong with that.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Bream uses her Instagram and blog to process the emotions she’s felt in her journey, but also to educate people—like those who've become amputees and anyone just curious about prosthetics. “I think a lot of people want to learn more, but they are afraid to ask a person with a prosthesis certain questions because they're not sure how they will respond,” Bream says “Hopefully my blog (at least in some small way) can help bridge that gap.” Video and photo: @onelegtostandon | □: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF
A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on May 24, 2018 at 11:59am PDT
Completing an Ironman triathlon (2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bicycle ride and 26.2-mile run) is a life accomplishment most can’t fathom. Now, imagine conquering one as a blind or visually impaired person. Some people would say, “What, no way?” and that’s exactly the kind of stigma Helen Webb (left), a visually impaired athlete, and Caroline Gaynor (right), a paratriathlon race guide, want to break. They hope sharing their story will help erase misconceptions about visually impaired individuals and inspire others to get involved with guiding and competing in paratriathlons. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Webb (@littlehellza) has albinism, an inherited condition that can cause visual impairments, including sensitivity to light, extreme nearsightedness or farsightedness, and blurred vision. “I have 10 percent of the visual detail of a normal person, no depth perception, and an extreme sensitivity to light,” Webb tells SELF via email. For 15 years, Webb ran marathons without a guide, but was scared to tackle triathlons. “I kept making excuses. In the end, I had to accept that I was going to have to race with a guide or not be able to do triathlons.” Webb tells SELF. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Through online communities, Webb found Gaynor (@carolinebikes), who, according to Webb, is the “rockstar of female guides.” Webb, who lives in South Africa, knew if she ever raced in the U.S., Gaynor would be her first choice guide. Then in 2017, Webb earned a lottery spot in the Ironman World Championship in Kona, and of course, she asked Gaynor to guide her. Webb and Gaynor had never met in real life and only had five days to prepare, but the dream team made it happen. They completed the course in 16 hours, 27 minutes, and 25 seconds. The finish line was an emotional and extremely proud moment for both women who saw months of hard work finally manifest. Webb hopes others will see this and be inspired to stop saying “I can’t” because as she believes, “every amazing story starts with a decision to try.” Read more about their race at carolinebikes.com. ?: @carolinebikes | ?: @lesliehgreen #TeamSELF A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on Mar 30, 2018 at 11:43am PDT
Completing an Ironman triathlon (2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bicycle ride and 26.2-mile run) is a life accomplishment most can’t fathom. Now, imagine conquering one as a blind or visually impaired person. Some people would say, “What, no way?” and that’s exactly the kind of stigma Helen Webb (left), a visually impaired athlete, and Caroline Gaynor (right), a paratriathlon race guide, want to break. They hope sharing their story will help erase misconceptions about visually impaired individuals and inspire others to get involved with guiding and competing in paratriathlons. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Webb (@littlehellza) has albinism, an inherited condition that can cause visual impairments, including sensitivity to light, extreme nearsightedness or farsightedness, and blurred vision. “I have 10 percent of the visual detail of a normal person, no depth perception, and an extreme sensitivity to light,” Webb tells SELF via email. For 15 years, Webb ran marathons without a guide, but was scared to tackle triathlons. “I kept making excuses. In the end, I had to accept that I was going to have to race with a guide or not be able to do triathlons.” Webb tells SELF. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Through online communities, Webb found Gaynor (@carolinebikes), who, according to Webb, is the “rockstar of female guides.” Webb, who lives in South Africa, knew if she ever raced in the U.S., Gaynor would be her first choice guide. Then in 2017, Webb earned a lottery spot in the Ironman World Championship in Kona, and of course, she asked Gaynor to guide her. Webb and Gaynor had never met in real life and only had five days to prepare, but the dream team made it happen. They completed the course in 16 hours, 27 minutes, and 25 seconds. The finish line was an emotional and extremely proud moment for both women who saw months of hard work finally manifest. Webb hopes others will see this and be inspired to stop saying “I can’t” because as she believes, “every amazing story starts with a decision to try.” Read more about their race at carolinebikes.com. ?: @carolinebikes | ?: @lesliehgreen #TeamSELF
A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on Mar 30, 2018 at 11:43am PDT
Last year, Gina Danza (@wildginaa), 29, had an unsettling experience at an outdoor retailer. “I was trying on climbing gear to begin my new hobby, when a man walked up to me. We chatted a bit and then he started to laugh. He then said, ‘You know, black people don't hike or climb—not many women in general do. It's just strange to see you in here,’” Danza tells SELF via email. She immediately felt embarrassed and angry, but this awful incident was the catalyst she needed to pursue her love for the great outdoors. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ “I started to find the fire within me to fuel this passion to change this awful stereotype,” Danza says. “I thought a lot about the outdoors space and began looking at advertisements...I saw white, skinny, blonde girls all over and not one person of color.” Danza couldn’t relate to these images, which highlights the glaring problem with lack of representation. So it be became her personal mission to make the outdoors more inclusive to women of color. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Danza’s Instagram account is filled with wanderlust-worthy photos, but behind the epic climbing shots, its purpose remains to be an educational and relatable place where women of color can see themselves and be inspired to get outside in the wild. “I know how it feels to look different and feel different. I want to make the little [black] girl, to the black woman in her 50's, know that they can do anything they want.” Danza’s story is an important example of why representation—in any space—is so important. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Photos of @wildginaa taken by @msmabinty, @jessica.def, and @ggossett | □: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on May 3, 2018 at 12:15pm PDT
Last year, Gina Danza (@wildginaa), 29, had an unsettling experience at an outdoor retailer. “I was trying on climbing gear to begin my new hobby, when a man walked up to me. We chatted a bit and then he started to laugh. He then said, ‘You know, black people don't hike or climb—not many women in general do. It's just strange to see you in here,’” Danza tells SELF via email. She immediately felt embarrassed and angry, but this awful incident was the catalyst she needed to pursue her love for the great outdoors. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ “I started to find the fire within me to fuel this passion to change this awful stereotype,” Danza says. “I thought a lot about the outdoors space and began looking at advertisements...I saw white, skinny, blonde girls all over and not one person of color.” Danza couldn’t relate to these images, which highlights the glaring problem with lack of representation. So it be became her personal mission to make the outdoors more inclusive to women of color. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Danza’s Instagram account is filled with wanderlust-worthy photos, but behind the epic climbing shots, its purpose remains to be an educational and relatable place where women of color can see themselves and be inspired to get outside in the wild. “I know how it feels to look different and feel different. I want to make the little [black] girl, to the black woman in her 50's, know that they can do anything they want.” Danza’s story is an important example of why representation—in any space—is so important. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Photos of @wildginaa taken by @msmabinty, @jessica.def, and @ggossett | □: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF
A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on May 3, 2018 at 12:15pm PDT
Hülya Durmaz (@huelya_dennis) was born with hands and legs that she describes as "deformed." Until she was 6-years-old, Durmaz was in and out of hospitals and had over 20 different operations. The procedures allowed Durmaz to walk, but when she was 18, the screws in her bones became infected and she contracted sepsis—the body’s extreme response to an infection. Without timely treatment, sepsis can rapidly cause tissue damage, organ failure, and death. In order to save her life, doctors had to amputate both of Durmaz’s legs above the knee. “All I thought about [after losing my legs] was that I wanted to walk again and to have a good future,” Durmaz tells SELF via email. “I was only 18 and I knew my whole life was still ahead of me.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Throughout her life, others have doubted Durmaz’s capabilities. People made ignorant comments that she’d “never get married,” she’d have to be “taken care of 24/7,” and that she’d “only be able to work in a sheltered workplace.” For Durmaz, dealing with other people’s perceptions, on a personal and professional level, has been a difficult aspect of life with her disabilities, but it hasn’t stopped her from pursuing her dreams. “I never had any issue being ‘the legless girl with the strange hands.’ I just lived my life. I did school, college, and always have been a full-time worker,” Durmaz says. “Of course I take longer to do some things, and for other things I depend on help, but I easily adapt to new situations.” Durmaz uses her prosthetic legs, a wheelchair, a skateboard, and her hands to get around every day. Some of the struggles she encounters with accessibility are traveling alone and public transportation, but she says she uses “what fits the situation regardless [of] how it looks.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Fifteen years after her amputation, Durmaz works as a course manager for an academy while planning a wedding with her fiancé Dennis. She hopes her story can teach others to never give up. “It’s corny and it is often said, but it is true: If I would have listened to other people’s opinions about my future, I would have never got where I am today.” □: @huelya_dennis | □: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on Apr 19, 2018 at 8:04am PDT
Hülya Durmaz (@huelya_dennis) was born with hands and legs that she describes as "deformed." Until she was 6-years-old, Durmaz was in and out of hospitals and had over 20 different operations. The procedures allowed Durmaz to walk, but when she was 18, the screws in her bones became infected and she contracted sepsis—the body’s extreme response to an infection. Without timely treatment, sepsis can rapidly cause tissue damage, organ failure, and death. In order to save her life, doctors had to amputate both of Durmaz’s legs above the knee. “All I thought about [after losing my legs] was that I wanted to walk again and to have a good future,” Durmaz tells SELF via email. “I was only 18 and I knew my whole life was still ahead of me.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Throughout her life, others have doubted Durmaz’s capabilities. People made ignorant comments that she’d “never get married,” she’d have to be “taken care of 24/7,” and that she’d “only be able to work in a sheltered workplace.” For Durmaz, dealing with other people’s perceptions, on a personal and professional level, has been a difficult aspect of life with her disabilities, but it hasn’t stopped her from pursuing her dreams. “I never had any issue being ‘the legless girl with the strange hands.’ I just lived my life. I did school, college, and always have been a full-time worker,” Durmaz says. “Of course I take longer to do some things, and for other things I depend on help, but I easily adapt to new situations.” Durmaz uses her prosthetic legs, a wheelchair, a skateboard, and her hands to get around every day. Some of the struggles she encounters with accessibility are traveling alone and public transportation, but she says she uses “what fits the situation regardless [of] how it looks.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Fifteen years after her amputation, Durmaz works as a course manager for an academy while planning a wedding with her fiancé Dennis. She hopes her story can teach others to never give up. “It’s corny and it is often said, but it is true: If I would have listened to other people’s opinions about my future, I would have never got where I am today.” □: @huelya_dennis | □: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF
A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on Apr 19, 2018 at 8:04am PDT
“Remember that I am not this disease. I am not the sensations. I am not the emotions of frustration. I am not the guilt. I AM the awareness that knows no sorrow. I don’t want sympathy. All I want to do is show you that I am not impervious to T1D. All we can do is keep our chins up and move forward with strength and integrity.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ For Evan Soroka (@diabeticyogini), who was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at the age of 13, the hardest part about living with type 1 is the “constant need to be on guard.” When people have type 1 diabetes, it means their pancreas produces little or no insulin. Insulin is crucial because it breaks down glucose from food, which cells then use to create energy. When the body doesn't produce insulin, glucose stays in the bloodstream and blood sugar levels spike—potentially causing fatigue, headaches, and blurred vision among other symptoms. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Managing type 1 diabetes requires constantly monitoring glucose levels and administering insulin accordingly through injections or a pump. “With trial, error, patience and preparation you learn how to navigate type 1 diabetes,” Soroka tells SELF via email. But truly “any small misstep could cost me my life.” Before any type of activity, Soroka must carefully consider the duration and level of intensity to make sure she has enough supplies on hand. This means packing extra glucose, durable medical supplies, and the correct type of insulin so she’s covered in any situation. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Despite the physical and emotional challenges that come with type 1 diabetes, Soroka sees her disease as a “blessing” because it teaches her to appreciate how fragile life really is. “Let the challenges be your strengths,” she says. “Let it inspire you to keep going and do something impactful with this gift that is your life.” Tap the link in our bio to learn more about diabetes symptoms and how the condition affects people who have it. ?: @diabeticyogini | ?: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF #TeamSELFRegram #t1diabetes #t1d #diabetes #t1dlookslikeme A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on Mar 22, 2018 at 12:26pm PDT
“Remember that I am not this disease. I am not the sensations. I am not the emotions of frustration. I am not the guilt. I AM the awareness that knows no sorrow. I don’t want sympathy. All I want to do is show you that I am not impervious to T1D. All we can do is keep our chins up and move forward with strength and integrity.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ For Evan Soroka (@diabeticyogini), who was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at the age of 13, the hardest part about living with type 1 is the “constant need to be on guard.” When people have type 1 diabetes, it means their pancreas produces little or no insulin. Insulin is crucial because it breaks down glucose from food, which cells then use to create energy. When the body doesn't produce insulin, glucose stays in the bloodstream and blood sugar levels spike—potentially causing fatigue, headaches, and blurred vision among other symptoms. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Managing type 1 diabetes requires constantly monitoring glucose levels and administering insulin accordingly through injections or a pump. “With trial, error, patience and preparation you learn how to navigate type 1 diabetes,” Soroka tells SELF via email. But truly “any small misstep could cost me my life.” Before any type of activity, Soroka must carefully consider the duration and level of intensity to make sure she has enough supplies on hand. This means packing extra glucose, durable medical supplies, and the correct type of insulin so she’s covered in any situation. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Despite the physical and emotional challenges that come with type 1 diabetes, Soroka sees her disease as a “blessing” because it teaches her to appreciate how fragile life really is. “Let the challenges be your strengths,” she says. “Let it inspire you to keep going and do something impactful with this gift that is your life.” Tap the link in our bio to learn more about diabetes symptoms and how the condition affects people who have it. ?: @diabeticyogini | ?: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF #TeamSELFRegram #t1diabetes #t1d #diabetes #t1dlookslikeme
A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on Mar 22, 2018 at 12:26pm PDT
View this post on Instagram After Paige More (@paige_previvor), 26, had her preventive double mastectomy in 2017, she organized free events for “Breasties” like herself to meet IRL. “A ‘Breastie’ is anyone who has been affected by or knows someone affected by breast or ovarian cancer in any capacity,” More tells SELF. “Breasties are previvors, survivors, and caregivers (we call them carevivors). It’s an all inclusive community.” These meetups started as group meditation, cycling classes, potlucks, and girls’ night outs. But More wanted to have longer, more intimate gatherings. Retreats were on her to-do list, but they didn’t manifest until Leslie Almiron, another Breastie, generously offered to host the group for a weekend getaway. More, Almiron, and with the help of the other cofounders Bri Majsiak and Allie Brudner, organized their first Breastie retreat at Camelback Mountain. Twenty women spent the weekend skiing, tubing, storytelling, and bonding over shared experiences. This photo at the top of the mountain was symbolic for More because it shows that together Breasties can “overcome any mountain placed before them.” Since the first retreat, Moore quit her day job and has made The Breasties (@the_breasties) an official 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization. The next Breastie retreats are coming later this summer, so be sure to follow @the_breasties to see what they’re all about. “No matter what you're going through, you are not alone and there's a whole community of Breasties here for you,” More says. “Please reach out so you can find your tribe! We love you!” | Written by: @lesliehgreen | Photos from @paige_previvor and @the_breasties | #TeamSELF A post shared by SELF (@selfmagazine) on Jul 10, 2018 at 5:45pm PDT
After Paige More (@paige_previvor), 26, had her preventive double mastectomy in 2017, she organized free events for “Breasties” like herself to meet IRL. “A ‘Breastie’ is anyone who has been affected by or knows someone affected by breast or ovarian cancer in any capacity,” More tells SELF. “Breasties are previvors, survivors, and caregivers (we call them carevivors). It’s an all inclusive community.” These meetups started as group meditation, cycling classes, potlucks, and girls’ night outs. But More wanted to have longer, more intimate gatherings. Retreats were on her to-do list, but they didn’t manifest until Leslie Almiron, another Breastie, generously offered to host the group for a weekend getaway. More, Almiron, and with the help of the other cofounders Bri Majsiak and Allie Brudner, organized their first Breastie retreat at Camelback Mountain. Twenty women spent the weekend skiing, tubing, storytelling, and bonding over shared experiences. This photo at the top of the mountain was symbolic for More because it shows that together Breasties can “overcome any mountain placed before them.” Since the first retreat, Moore quit her day job and has made The Breasties (@the_breasties) an official 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization. The next Breastie retreats are coming later this summer, so be sure to follow @the_breasties to see what they’re all about. “No matter what you're going through, you are not alone and there's a whole community of Breasties here for you,” More says. “Please reach out so you can find your tribe! We love you!” | Written by: @lesliehgreen | Photos from @paige_previvor and @the_breasties | #TeamSELF
A post shared by SELF (@selfmagazine) on Jul 10, 2018 at 5:45pm PDT
On the 105th anniversary of Harriet Tubman’s death (March 10, 2018), a team of 10 women from @GirlTrek, a public health movement for black women and girls, retraced 100 miles of Tubman’s escape route on the Underground Railroad. On social media it was known as #HarrietsGreatEscape. “Harriet Tubman is the greatest freedom fighter that ever was, and what better way to honor her than to walk the Underground Railroad,” a spokesperson for the group tells SELF via email. “Harriet Tubman saved her own life first and then went back time after time to save the lives of others, giving us the blueprint for the work GirlTrek does today.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ GirlTrek was created by best friends Morgan Dixon (@morgantreks) and Vanessa Garrison (@vanessatreks). “We were working really hard at our jobs, like many women,” Dixon says. “But we didn’t really see a reprieve. In fact, we saw a trend of what was honestly a death sentence for a lot of women we loved—where service to others is championed over caring for oneself.” To combat this, both women began walking as a means of self-care. “Once Vanessa and I got a taste of what healthy living looked and felt like, the more we wanted other people to come with us,” Dixon says. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ What started as a hiking club in Bridgeport, Connecticut, has exploded into a nationwide community that includes more than 125,000 black women and girls walking for their health. GirlTrek recognizes the disturbingly high disease and mortality rates for the black community and believes walking is one of the first steps toward reducing these figures. And they’re right: Regular physical activity—such as walking—can contribute to overall health and decrease the risk of chronic diseases such as heart disease, cancer, and type 2 diabetes, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ After #HarrietsGreatEscape, GirlTrek challenged everyone to follow in their footsteps and walk 100 miles before May 10. Why? “Because Harriet did it. Because walking heals.” Go to www.girltrek.com to get involved! | ?: Taylor Rees (@taylorfreesolo) | ?: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF #girltrek A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on Apr 5, 2018 at 9:51am PDT
On the 105th anniversary of Harriet Tubman’s death (March 10, 2018), a team of 10 women from @GirlTrek, a public health movement for black women and girls, retraced 100 miles of Tubman’s escape route on the Underground Railroad. On social media it was known as #HarrietsGreatEscape. “Harriet Tubman is the greatest freedom fighter that ever was, and what better way to honor her than to walk the Underground Railroad,” a spokesperson for the group tells SELF via email. “Harriet Tubman saved her own life first and then went back time after time to save the lives of others, giving us the blueprint for the work GirlTrek does today.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ GirlTrek was created by best friends Morgan Dixon (@morgantreks) and Vanessa Garrison (@vanessatreks). “We were working really hard at our jobs, like many women,” Dixon says. “But we didn’t really see a reprieve. In fact, we saw a trend of what was honestly a death sentence for a lot of women we loved—where service to others is championed over caring for oneself.” To combat this, both women began walking as a means of self-care. “Once Vanessa and I got a taste of what healthy living looked and felt like, the more we wanted other people to come with us,” Dixon says. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ What started as a hiking club in Bridgeport, Connecticut, has exploded into a nationwide community that includes more than 125,000 black women and girls walking for their health. GirlTrek recognizes the disturbingly high disease and mortality rates for the black community and believes walking is one of the first steps toward reducing these figures. And they’re right: Regular physical activity—such as walking—can contribute to overall health and decrease the risk of chronic diseases such as heart disease, cancer, and type 2 diabetes, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ After #HarrietsGreatEscape, GirlTrek challenged everyone to follow in their footsteps and walk 100 miles before May 10. Why? “Because Harriet did it. Because walking heals.” Go to www.girltrek.com to get involved! | ?: Taylor Rees (@taylorfreesolo) | ?: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF #girltrek
A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on Apr 5, 2018 at 9:51am PDT
While studying at the School of American Ballet, former professional ballerina Aesha Ash (pictured above) was inspired by a photo hanging in the dormitory. It was of Andrea Long-Naidu, a pioneer for women of color in ballet who danced with the New York City Ballet for over eight years. “Seeing that image of her as the only African-American in the photo…gave me strength to go on when I felt I couldn’t,” Ash tells SELF via email. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Building on that inspiration, Ash, now 40, has made it her mission to remind young black women that beauty and grace are not defined by race or socio-economic background. She created The Swan Dreams Project, a foundation dedicated to changing how young black girls and women see themselves—especially those in underserved communities. “I wanted to create images that I felt were lacking from our culture,” she says. “I wanted to put out images that represented a side of the black woman that doesn’t often get promoted…the soft, elegant beautiful women that I feel we are. I became tired of waiting around for it to happen, so I took the initiative upon myself.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This image of Ash was shot in her hometown of Rochester, NY, by Arleen and Daryl Thaler. You can learn more about @theswandreamsproject through the link in our bio. □:Thaler Photography A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on Feb 16, 2018 at 2:16pm PST
While studying at the School of American Ballet, former professional ballerina Aesha Ash (pictured above) was inspired by a photo hanging in the dormitory. It was of Andrea Long-Naidu, a pioneer for women of color in ballet who danced with the New York City Ballet for over eight years. “Seeing that image of her as the only African-American in the photo…gave me strength to go on when I felt I couldn’t,” Ash tells SELF via email. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Building on that inspiration, Ash, now 40, has made it her mission to remind young black women that beauty and grace are not defined by race or socio-economic background. She created The Swan Dreams Project, a foundation dedicated to changing how young black girls and women see themselves—especially those in underserved communities. “I wanted to create images that I felt were lacking from our culture,” she says. “I wanted to put out images that represented a side of the black woman that doesn’t often get promoted…the soft, elegant beautiful women that I feel we are. I became tired of waiting around for it to happen, so I took the initiative upon myself.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This image of Ash was shot in her hometown of Rochester, NY, by Arleen and Daryl Thaler. You can learn more about @theswandreamsproject through the link in our bio. □:Thaler Photography
A post shared by SELF Magazine (@selfmagazine) on Feb 16, 2018 at 2:16pm PST
View this post on Instagram “You would have no idea there's anything wrong with me looking at the far left...As you can see invisible illness can truly be invisible,” Megan King (@thetravelinghaloofhope), 28, wrote on Facebook about her Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS). In the photo, King shows the difference in her appearance with and without her supportive body braces. “Please be kind and give the benefit of the doubt to both young and old people who are moving slow, using a handicap parking space, a mobility aid, etc. It's not your job to judge. Majority of us are already self conscious and get nervous about what others will think.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ EDS affects the connective tissues supporting the skin, bones, blood vessels, and many other organs and tissues. These defects in connective tissues can cause symptoms such as mildly loose joints (hypermobility) to life-threatening complications. King tells SELF she’s had over 34 surgeries since her diagnosis and that her spine is full of rods and screws. Most days she wears a neck, lumbar, and a TLSO brace, but sometimes she needs more or less. “We’re not making our symptoms up. EDS can be unpredictable,” she says. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ King’s photo is an important reminder that things aren’t always as they appear. “Just because a person looks healthy, doesn’t mean the inside of their body is,” King says. “People usually want to present themselves as healthy, competent individuals. That’s part of the reason why invisible illness is hard to identify. So many of us are really good at hiding the pain that we are in.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Learn more about King on her blog “My ‘Impossible’ Medical Journey” and why she encourages others to talk openly about their invisible illnesses at http://myimpossiblemedicaljourney.blogspot.com. | □: @thetravelinghaloofhope | □: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF A post shared by SELF (@selfmagazine) on Jun 6, 2018 at 3:13pm PDT
“You would have no idea there's anything wrong with me looking at the far left...As you can see invisible illness can truly be invisible,” Megan King (@thetravelinghaloofhope), 28, wrote on Facebook about her Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS). In the photo, King shows the difference in her appearance with and without her supportive body braces. “Please be kind and give the benefit of the doubt to both young and old people who are moving slow, using a handicap parking space, a mobility aid, etc. It's not your job to judge. Majority of us are already self conscious and get nervous about what others will think.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ EDS affects the connective tissues supporting the skin, bones, blood vessels, and many other organs and tissues. These defects in connective tissues can cause symptoms such as mildly loose joints (hypermobility) to life-threatening complications. King tells SELF she’s had over 34 surgeries since her diagnosis and that her spine is full of rods and screws. Most days she wears a neck, lumbar, and a TLSO brace, but sometimes she needs more or less. “We’re not making our symptoms up. EDS can be unpredictable,” she says. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ King’s photo is an important reminder that things aren’t always as they appear. “Just because a person looks healthy, doesn’t mean the inside of their body is,” King says. “People usually want to present themselves as healthy, competent individuals. That’s part of the reason why invisible illness is hard to identify. So many of us are really good at hiding the pain that we are in.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Learn more about King on her blog “My ‘Impossible’ Medical Journey” and why she encourages others to talk openly about their invisible illnesses at http://myimpossiblemedicaljourney.blogspot.com. | □: @thetravelinghaloofhope | □: @lesliehgreen | #TeamSELF
A post shared by SELF (@selfmagazine) on Jun 6, 2018 at 3:13pm PDT
