Curvy Girl Auditions 7 May 2026

The door opened. A woman with a clipboard and kind, tired eyes called out, “Number seven.”

I was auditioning to see if their stage was big enough for me. curvy girl auditions 7

The holding room smelled like coffee, nerves, and the faint, sweet ghost of someone’s vanilla lotion. Number 7 was pinned to my leotard, just over my heart. I traced the edge of the paper square with my thumb, flattening a crease. The door opened

I didn’t know if I’d get the part. But for the first time, I realized: I wasn’t auditioning to fit their stage anymore. Number 7 was pinned to my leotard, just over my heart

I had done this six times before.

Not what’s your number . Not thank you, next . She wanted my name.

I didn’t do what I used to do. I didn’t try to make myself smaller. I didn’t suck in my stomach or hold my arms tight to hide the softness underneath. I breathed out, let my shoulders drop, and began .