In this week’s episode, both of our storytellers experience a shift in how they see themselves.

Part 1: Fangfang Ruose fears that her prosthetic legs will exclude her from becoming a fashion model.

Fangfang Ruose is originally from a small village in China and grew up in a Chinese Catholic orphanage, where she received her first prosthetics at the age of three. Later, she was adopted by an American father and a Spanish mother, and moved to Miami as a teenager. She graduated from FIU with a Bachelor’s in Finance and is now pursuing a Master’s in International Real Estate and Finance, focusing on development. Alongside her studies, she models, proudly showcasing her prosthetics and embracing her unique journey to advocate for body positivity and self-acceptance.

Part 2: When engineering student Devan Sandiford runs into an old friend from his former college, he desperately wants her to think he’s cool.

Devan Sandiford is a published writer, award-winning storyteller, and community activist. His stories have been featured in The Washington Post, NPR, The Moth Podcast, Story Collider, Simple Families Podcast, Speak Up Storytelling, and elsewhere. He is an alumni of and former writer-in-residence at the Voices of Our Nations Arts Foundation (VONA), a finalist for The Kenyon Review Developmental Editing Fellowship for Emerging Writers, and a recipient of the Corporeal Writing Scholarship for Writing Trauma Toward Healing and Joy with Terese Maria Mailhot. He has a poem in the anthology Excitement and Talisman (2023) and an essay in the anthology Bodies of Stories (2022). Devan has contributed his opinions on race, identity, grief, parenting, and storytelling for articles in The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Slate Magazine. He has received acclaim from multiple New York Times bestselling authors, including Roxane Gay, who called him "an excellent writer who will be endlessly interesting to his readers." Devan lives in Brooklyn, New York with his wife and their two sons and works as a story developer at The Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. He loves brunch, biking in a morning chill, bookstore crawls, and being roasted on his birthday.

Episode Transcript

Part 1

When I was 16 or 17, I wanted to be a model, but I kept this secret inside of me. After graduating from high school, I went straight to a two‑year fashion school. The people there are photographers, stylists, and designers in the fashion industry.

One day, my classmate Maya asked me if I would like to be a model for her brand, a silk brand that made pajamas and pillowcases. I told her yes, because this is what I wanted to do. I was very excited and nervous because I didn't tell her my situation.

I have bilateral above‑the‑knee prosthetic legs. I was born this way. My prosthetics were old, so I had to wear long pants, skirts, or leggings to cover them. I walked differently. If people didn't ask, I just won't say anything because I wanted to look normal like everyone.

The photo shoot day arrived, I went to the studio and everyone was sweet and nice. Before that, I prayed to God, “Please, give me outfits that cover my legs.”

They did my makeup and hair and I feel like a star. The stylist showed my outfits. It's long pants. I feel like God heard my prayers.

The photo shoot went really well. The photographer really liked me and introduced me to another client who had a photo shoot happening in two weeks. I said yes, but I still didn't tell my situation to my classmate Maya or the photographer.

Two weeks later, the second photo shoot day arrived. I prayed to God asking for the same thing.

That day was hot and humid in Miami. We have to shoot outside. The stylist showed us the outfits, which were long pants and long skirt. I feel like God was on my other side again. I feel like I can do this photo shoot successfully.

While I was doing my work, the client started walking towards me and she asked, "Can you jump? I want to see some energetic movements.”

My face started burning up and my heart started pumping. I told her, "No, sorry, I can't."

She looked at me dead seriously in the eye, and asked, "Why not?"

I was just like, “Sorry. Please, I just can't.”

She didn't pressure me too much, however, I can see she was really upset. After that, I feel terribly down because I made the client upset and I feel like modeling is not for a girl with prosthetics.

Whenever my friends ask me to model, I would just say, “Sorry, I'm not interested.”

Two years later, I graduated from fashion school. That summer, one of my photographer friends asked me to join him at a photographer's workshop. I went there. It's a big studio with a lot of cameras and lights.

I was just there socializing with my friends and this guy, bald‑headed with a pair of flip‑flops and shorts, holding a coffee, walking towards me, started asking questions.

He said, "My name is Josh. I own this studio. My business partner Jenny and I also run a modeling agency. I think you'll be a great candidate for our agency."

At first, I thought, "This must be a joke." Well, I didn't really care that much.

When I went back home, I saw my phone screen flashing. It's a DM from Josh and he wrote, "Hey, Fangfang, please let me know about what I mentioned this day earlier."

I left him on read because I don't know what to say, but later on he texted again. I feel like I shouldn't just leave him on hold and I need to explain my situation to him.

I wrote my situation to him and he said, "Oh, I will get back to you. I need to talk to my partner, Jenny."

I feel like he’ll will never get back to me. I don't have any hopes.

A few hours later, he texts me, "Come to the studio. We want to talk to you."

I went back to the studio and met Jenny. She was a middle‑aged woman, dressed super cool and very nice. She told me I will be super unique in the industry.

I thought, "Why not? Let me just give it a try." I was very excited, but I still had questions in my mind.

After signing with Jenny and Josh, we did a few photo shoots together and I got some jobs. But, however, I noticed my bookings were limited. My prosthetics weren't visible and the types of shoes I was offered feel very restricted. I feel very less competitive compared to the other models.

One day, I was just in the agency studio hanging around with my modeling friends. Jenny was also there and she called me over, and said, "You need to be willing to show your legs. That means you have to change to new prosthetic legs and attract more clients.”

I saw she was right and I agreed. My prosthetics were very old and had a lot of disadvantages.

That same day, I went back home. I saw my dad sitting on the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hands, and he said, "Fangfang, I think it's time for you to change to a new pair of prosthetic legs."

I felt like it was a sign, because Jenny just mentioned earlier in the day and now he's telling me again it was time for a change.

We spent a few months searching for doctors. Eventually, we found the best one that is recommended by University of Miami professors. The doctor showed me a picture of his wife, who has also prosthetics, wearing a rose‑gold color and with a lot of flower designs on it. I thought she had the prettiest leg in the world.

The doctor also mentioned the legs have a microchip inside that knows our next movement that keeps us balanced.

I told him, "Yes, I want the same one. Give me that." And we spent a long time in the process of getting the new legs.

Finally, that day, the doctor called me, "Come to the office. Your legs are ready."

I sat in the chair waiting as he walked in holding two legs, one in each hand. He handed them to me and said, "These are your legs. Try them on."

When I first saw them, I was surprised on how cool they looked. The color that I chose is metallic black and very futuristic looking. I thought they were the coolest legs.

I tried them on and, of course, it's very uncomfortable. For me, it's like driving a new car.

I took the legs home just for practice. I decided to stay at home for a few days, not going anywhere, just to practice walking. But right after I decided, my best friend from college called me and said, "Oh, come to my graduation. Don't worry. We'll take very good care of you."

I wanted to be a supportive friend, so I said yes. On the other hand, I also saw it as a great chance to show up in public and observe people's reactions.

The next day, I put on a black mini skirt to show my cool new legs and paired with a cute top. I also brought my walking stick with me, and I had my friends help me walk.

At the graduation, everyone greeted me warmly and with smiles. The staff even helped me find the best seat to watch my friend.

After the ceremony, we took a lot of memory photos. I was just looking at the photos of myself. I think, “I look fabulous. Why shouldn't I just post it on Instagram?”

On the other side, I also thought about it. “What if I post it? People who don’t know that I have prosthetics will unfollow me because they don't like disabled persons.” And I'm like, “But at this time, who cares?” I posted anyways.

The second I posted, my phone started blowing up, everyone giving likes, comments and messages from everywhere. Jenny saw the picture and called me immediately, screaming with excitement.

A month later, she called me for a photo shoot to debut my new legs. On set, I wore a pink lingerie set proudly showcasing my body and my prosthetics.

I feel more confident than ever with no worries about poses and outfits. For the first time, I truly saw myself as a professional model.

When the picture came out, Jenny helped me promote them and, soon, big agencies just started reaching out. I was super grateful for such an amazing agent, my dad and my mom and a loving family. I was just super happy.

Since then, I've signed with a major agency representing both Miami and Chicago and I'm steadily making my way.

Thank you.

Part 2

It's 2007, I'm 22 years old, and I'm climbing these dark blue steps in Long Beach, California. I'm headed up to this girl's apartment.

This girl is not my girlfriend. This fact did not occur to me until I was already climbing the steps. I do have a girlfriend. This girl is just a friend who is a girl. And I hadn't really thought much about it until this moment when she had invited me up to her place. Earlier in the day, I didn't think that the night was going to end here at all.

I had started school out in Long Beach, transferred from a school inland, and I started going to this engineering program. Initially, when I had gone, I had decided to do engineering. I told everybody because my grandpa was a jack‑of‑all‑trades. When I was little, he used to fix all the types of things and I used to love watching my grandpa go and fix everything people would bring him. That's why I tell people that I go to this school.

But, actually, part of the reason I chose engineering was just to look really smart. To me, going to this school, double majoring in biomedical engineering, I figured I could really go here and find a place where I belong. Most of my family, they go to medical school, they go to nursing, they go to teaching. I'm the only one in my family who's gone to engineering school.

So I'm sitting in the back of the class. I don't have any friends. I've only met my engineering mates. Until one of my friends texts me that, “You do know somebody that goes to this school. You remember Angela?”

I was like, “Angela, yeah, I remember Angela.” Angela is this beige, light‑skinned black girl with long, flowing hair. I'm not saying she looks like Rihanna, but if it was a movie, Rihanna would be playing her part.

So I'm like, “Yeah, no, I remember Angela.”

So I decided to text her and for her to meet me in the engineering program. And she's like, “Oh, absolutely. I don't have any friends here either. I'll meet you up.”

She comes and it takes her a really long time to get there but, finally, she gets there. I'm working at the back desk on some of our programming when all of a sudden I hear complete silence in the room.

And I don't want to perpetuate any stereotypes, but I look up and I see all my engineering mates are staring at Angela. They're watching her as she walks into the classroom towards me and I stand up from the table and I'm like, “Guys,” in my head I'm telling them, “guys, play it cool. We are cool. We've done this before.”

And no, none of them are playing it cool They're all watching her go.

As I get closer to her, it's starting to occur to me that the closer I get to her and as soon as I hug her, that I'm going to Instantly be the coolest guy in the engineering program. This is working out great for me.

I hug Angela and we start talking about like how she came to the class, how she started at the school. I'm really excited because I finally have a friend who I know, somebody who's been part of my past.

So, I ask her what took her so long to get to the engineering program. She's like, “I've never been to this building before. It was really hard to find.”

I was like, “I'm pretty sure it's right next to your building.”

And she's like, “Nah, I don't think so. You wouldn't be able to find my building.”

So I was like, “Challenge accepted.”

Later in the day, I start to walk to her class. We made a plan after I was done with my engineering to go meet her. It was really easy to find her. I realized I got brownie points for knowing how to get around the campus and so I felt pretty good.

We went and grabbed a snack at the cafeteria. It's nighttime. At this point, I had to go because I knew I had to work the next day, and she had to go as well. And so we started to walk, but she started to walk in the opposite direction.

I was like, “Where are you going? The parking lot’s this way.”

She's like, “Oh, I take the school shuttle.”

I was like, “Oh, I can just take you. It's cool.”

She's like, “Oh, that's awesome.”

I think in my mind I thought this would be another opportunity for me to look really cool in Angela's eyes but it didn't occur to me that, at the time, I had a 1985 Toyota Camry which had 250,000 miles on it. Not the coolest car.

But anyway, I get in the car. Angela and I are just friends. We start driving to her apartment, pull into her parking lot, and this is the moment when she asked me to come up to her apartment.

At the time, when she asked, I wasn't quite sure if she was asking me to come up as a friend or if she was asking me to come up, come up. I have a girlfriend, so in my mind, I'm trying to think, like, I don't want to put myself in this situation, but at the same time I think I can still play this line of being cool, being smart, being just a great guy.

So I trust myself. I'm 22 years old. I think I can handle this.

So I park in the visitor parking spot. We both get out of the car and we start walking up these steps. As I'm walking up the steps, you know those moments when you're realizing it's a bad idea? That was the moment. Every single step, I'm like, “This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea.”

I'm picturing those movies where one person kisses the other and the other person has to explain to their significant other that, “I didn't kiss them, they kissed me,” which never seemed like a reasonable explanation.

So I'm trying to figure out how to get out of this but I'm also not that great at saying no and just turning around and doing things, so I'm like, “I'm just going to commit to this. I'm going to go in here. I'm going to find my way quickly and I'm going to get out.”

So she opens her third floor apartment for me, welcomes me in. I take off my shoes because I'm a black man and that I don't want to bring the dirt in from outside. She shows me her kitchen and I'm blown away. Her kitchen can fit an actual table. I have a studio apartment and so this is impressive to me. She has a full‑size fridge, she shows me the fridge and it's got actual stuff in it. I have just a small, little college fridge.

She shows me the living room. It's this huge living room. Everything's going fine. I'm like, “This is not too bad.”

And she's like, “Let me show you the bedroom.”

As soon as she says this and starts walking down the hallway, I'm like, “This is the moment when it happens. How can I not go down the hallway?” I can't think of anything and so I'm just following behind her.

When she walks into the bedroom, I just decide I'm going to peek my head in, “Oh, this is nice,” and I turn around and say, “I got to go. I've got work tomorrow.”

I head back to her front door, she follows behind me. I put on my shoes and I'm like, “Thank you so much for showing me your place. This was great. I got to go. Thank you.”

We hug and I leave and I get down to the steps. I'm going down, I'm like, “Oh, my God, why did I do that? That was so stupid? I should have never put myself in that scenario. Thank God I'm out of there.”

I get back to my car and I start driving to my own apartment when I see a call from Angela. I look down at my phone, I pick it up, and I'm thinking to myself, “What does she want? Did she forget something in my car? Does she want me to come back?”

I pick up the phone and Angela's first words are, “Did you see a check my mom left me?”

And I'm like, “Is she asking me this?”

“No, I didn't see the check.” I just give her a chance to, like, maybe she just wants to know if I saw it.

And she's like, “Well, the funny thing is I knew exactly where it was before you came, and now it's not there anymore.”

I can just feel my blood starting to boil. I think to myself, “I can't believe Angela would ask me this question. She knows enough about me that this is not who I am.” I can feel myself starting to get so angry in it.

I'm starting to picture all the times when I've had things like this happen to me. The first time I had someone accuse me of stealing, I was 12 years old, standing next to a kiosk with my hands in my pocket, when the guy thought I had stolen candy and threatened to call the cops on me.

The first time a police stopped me while I was walking in a neighborhood, I was 14 years old. And just six months earlier from going in Angela's place, I had been surrounded by the police at the hotel that I was staying at because I was suspicious.

I'm so angry that she's asking me this question, and so I tell her, “No, I did not see your mom's check. I didn't take your mom's check. There would be nothing for me to do with your mom's check. It's not even made out to me.”

And she's like, “I'm positive that you must have taken it because I know where it was.” We're going back and forth, and the next thing I know I just shout at her, “I didn't take it,” and I hang up, the first person I've ever hung up on in my life.

I get back to my apartment and she's texting me asking me about the check and I decide that I'm not going to respond to her at all. I just go to sleep the best I can, calm down.

The next morning, I wake up to go to work and I get a text message from Angela. She's found the check.

I'm like, “Oh, that's interesting. I thought you knew exactly where it was.”

She tries to play it off and says, like, “No, I was just joking with you. I knew you didn't take it.”

For whatever reason, this makes me even more angry. And for many, many years, I was angry at Angela. I never talked to her again in my life, even two years later when she became my sister's friend. I was just always angry and told myself that I didn't expect her to do that.

But the truth was that I actually wasn't angry at Angela. I had wanted to look like this smart, cool, attractive engineer, and when I had gone over there, I thought that's how I had left, but it turns out that she had only ever seen me as this suspicious person. I didn't want to talk to her or see her again because every time I looked at her it reminded me of a time where I didn't feel like I was loved.

Thank you.