I cried on my 18th birthday. I thought 17 was such a nice age. You're young enough to get away with things, but you're old enough, too.

It's terrifying. It's so scary, because you get used to being around the crew and being friendly with everyone and then suddenly, at a certain point, everything switches and you're the one standing behind the lights and nobody's going to help you. And that can be really difficult sometimes.

Being a teenage model was lot of fun, like playing dress-up. I'd feel ugly and awkward and chubby, and they'd transform me. Not that that makes everything better. Then my mom shopped the pictures around, I guess, and the agencies started calling. I wound up going with a little agency, Spectrum. It all happened really quickly, I started modeling for magazines like YM and Seventeen, and I did a couple of bigger things like Italian Vogue.

My diary is a disaster...I can't spell at all...I'll spell the same word completely differently in the same sentence.

I am scared of becoming a mother.

I just learned that, even though in a past life, I was a model, too.

Beauty comes from the happiness within.