Trya Banks, we hardly knew ye

I can't think of a sadder way to start my week. Tyra Banks is leaving the runway behind. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to overstate her impact on my life. From my early days as a struggling model to my halcyon days as an out of work model, Tyra has been my rock, my tailwind, my North Star in the sea of indecisiveness that is my life.

Without her the lights in the dressing room are but an inch too wide, the hangers all wire, and the meals hearty and filling. Even so, I don't wish her to stay on if such is not in her heart. For it is not for me to decide what an angel does with it's wings. And far be it from me to cage the bird of the sacred feather.

Letting go is the hardest part. But she's given me the strength to face anything, even the loss of the icon of my age. Thus, I'm announcing my retirement from the runway as well. I know I can't keep modeling now that the Tyra light has gone out. I doubt there are any who can.

I can't tell you what the runway will look like now that she's moved on, but I can tell you it will be slippery. Because it will be covered with tears ever more. Godspeed, Tyra Banks. May your retirement be the stuff of Henry Fonda movies.