Seven years ago, in my first semester at college, the professors handed out MacBook Pros. With mine I filmed a seven-minute tutorial on “natural makeup”—just me, my laptop, and a cup of coffee. When, a week later, it clocked 40,000 Web views, I knew people were connecting with it, so I kept going. That moment changed my life.
At the time, I was keeping a personal blog in which I depicted myself as the girl I wanted to be, with money and a great family. But it was all a veneer. In reality my life was hard, and I was struggling with insecurities I’d had for years.
You wouldn’t exactly call my childhood stable. When I was growing up, my father constantly gambled away our rent money. Every few months we’d get evicted and move. My brother and I never had the same beds for long, or even the same tree outside to swing on. Then one night after a big loss, my father just disappeared. It was more than 10 years before I saw him again.
My dad and I had been close—he called me Tuyet Bang, Vietnamese foravalanche, because of my nonstop energy. I took a lot from him, like being a risk taker, and I know how much he loved my mother. Their families were like the Montagues and the Capulets—he was from northern Vietnam, she was from the central countryside, yet they ran off together.
After he left, my mother was heartbroken. But she remarried, and our relationship with my stepdad was good... at first. They had a daughter, my little half-sister, Christine. But bit by bit he became very controlling of my mother. Eventually, the four of us moved out, and at age 17, I started working as a hostess to supplement my mom’s income as a nail technician in a salon. We could barely pay rent, and we had no furniture; I slept on the floor, my clothes in a basket beside me. We couldn’t afford dressers.
At the time, I was keeping a personal blog in which I depicted myself as the girl I wanted to be, with money and a great family. But it was all a veneer. In reality my life was hard, and I was struggling with insecurities I’d had for years.
You wouldn’t exactly call my childhood stable. When I was growing up, my father constantly gambled away our rent money. Every few months we’d get evicted and move. My brother and I never had the same beds for long, or even the same tree outside to swing on. Then one night after a big loss, my father just disappeared. It was more than 10 years before I saw him again.
My dad and I had been close—he called me Tuyet Bang, Vietnamese foravalanche, because of my nonstop energy. I took a lot from him, like being a risk taker, and I know how much he loved my mother. Their families were like the Montagues and the Capulets—he was from northern Vietnam, she was from the central countryside, yet they ran off together.
After he left, my mother was heartbroken. But she remarried, and our relationship with my stepdad was good... at first. They had a daughter, my little half-sister, Christine. But bit by bit he became very controlling of my mother. Eventually, the four of us moved out, and at age 17, I started working as a hostess to supplement my mom’s income as a nail technician in a salon. We could barely pay rent, and we had no furniture; I slept on the floor, my clothes in a basket beside me. We couldn’t afford dressers.
My disjointed upbringing took its toll. I never made friends at school; in Florida I was one of the few Asian kids, and I always got made fun of because I was different. To cope I holed up in my room, drawing superheroes and reading. In one sketch I created a magical version of myself that had the superpower to save my family from our situation.
Art was my escape, so when I was accepted at Ringling College of Art and Design in Florida, I prayed we’d find the $12,000 for tuition. My aunts and uncles had pooled together money to buy us furniture, but my mom used it to pay for my first semester instead. I promised her I would find a way to take care of the family. I just never imagined it would be through YouTube.
The makeup tutorials were a fun hobby at first. I’d play different characters or try new emotions—a bold lip or dark brows to look strong, or sweet pink hues for church. And I was resourceful: I stocked up on lipsticks and liners from drugstore 75-cent sale bins.
As my YouTube following grew, I was soon earning as much from advertising revenue as from waiting tables, so I quit my job. My boss thought I was crazy, which just made me more determined. In 2012, four years and 200 videos later, my channel was so successful that Google offered me $1 million to create 20 hours of content. It was an incredible opportunity: Out of all the online beauty experts, they had picked me, the person who filmed in her bedroom!
But my real Cinderella moment came when L’Oréal gave me my own makeup line to launch this year. I was already making videos for Lancôme, another L’Oréal brand, so when they first called, I thought I was being fired. As soon as I registered what was really happening, I called my mom, who was giving someone a pedicure. “Today is the last day you’re doing that,” I said. “I don’t want you to go to work tomorrow.” As I told her about the project, we sobbed together uncontrollably.
I still can’t believe Em—my new line, named for the affectionate Vietnamese word for little sister or sweetie—is a reality. And even though makeup can change the way you look, I want everyone watching my videos to know perfection doesn’t exist. That’s why I show my face without products—pimples included—and that’s why I’m sharing this story. If I’d had a more normal childhood, I would probably be living quietly somewhere as a children’s-book illustrator. But my life hasn’t been perfect, and look where I am today.
I don’t know what the future holds, but I love working in the digital world. I never get bored; I went swimming in a mermaid tail for one of my last videos, which got 1.475 million views. Whatever happens, I’ll just keep moving forward. Like an avalanche.
[Source: glamour.com]
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