As a woman born and raised in Italy, my journey has been one of navigating perceptions, breaking stereotypes, and fighting for respect — not just for myself but for all women. My story is one of triumphs and trials, and though much has been said about the moments that thrust me into the public eye, I believe it’s important to shed light on the layers that make up my experience.

Growing up in a culture that often celebrated beauty but underestimated intelligence, I quickly learned how societal perceptions of women were shaped. As a “pretty woman,” I was often reduced to my appearance. The assumption was that my face and figure spoke louder than my mind or my capabilities. While being considered attractive brought certain advantages, it came with an insidious cost: I was frequently dismissed as not smart enough, not serious enough, and not worthy of being heard.

This duality — a blessing and a curse — became the framework for many of my early struggles. People who underestimated me thought they could manipulate or dismiss me, which ironically gave me an advantage. They didn’t see me coming when I chose to speak up, fight back, and demand respect.

But let me be clear: navigating this world as a woman is not a game of strategy; it’s a constant uphill battle. The moment I found myself in the center of one of the most high-profile cases of the #MeToo movement was not something I had planned or even imagined. It was, however, a moment that would forever change my life and, I hope, contribute to the shift in how women are perceived.

In 2015, I had an encounter that many would later read about, one that revealed the dark underbelly of power dynamics in industries like fashion and entertainment. Harvey Weinstein — once one of Hollywood’s most influential figures — tried to wield his power over me, assuming I would remain silent like so many before me. But I didn’t.

I knew what was happening wasn’t right, and I knew I had to act. I managed to record our interactions, capturing evidence of his predatory behavior. It wasn’t an easy decision. Speaking out meant exposing myself to ridicule, backlash, and endless scrutiny — not just for my actions but for who I was as a woman.

Would people believe me? Would they think I was seeking attention? Would they reduce me to my looks and label me as “just a model” with nothing to offer beyond the surface? These questions haunted me, but I pressed forward. I accepted to work with the authorities and I accepted to wear a wire and in a sting operation. 

The aftermath was intense. My character was dissected, my choices questioned, and my appearance used as both a weapon and a distraction from the real issue: the pervasive culture of misogyny that allows powerful men to prey on women with impunity. In 2015 I was alone, the only one that ever went public about him and nobody believed me. 

But the tide began to turn in 2017 when The New York Times and The New Yorker published detailed investigations into Weinstein’s behavior, featuring accounts from dozens of women. The recordings I had made years earlier became a cornerstone of the evidence that exposed him. Finally, people started to believe women.

That moment was not just about me; it was about a collective voice that had been silenced for far too long. It was about showing the world that women, no matter what they wear or how they look, deserve to be valued and respected for who they are and especially for what they have sacrificed to help many others. 

Though the Weinstein case is what many associate with my name, it’s only a part of my story. I am a woman who loves fashion, short skirts, and high heels — not because I want to conform to someone else’s idea of femininity, but because it’s an expression of who I am. I refuse to let my choices in clothing or my career as a model diminish my worth or dictate how I should be treated. Women are multifaceted, and our contributions to the world extend far beyond our physical appearances. We are thinkers, leaders, creators, and change-makers. Yet, we continue to be judged by outdated standards that prioritize looks over substance.

Yesterday, a courageous woman in France, Gisèle Pelicot, brought over 50 men — including her own husband — to justice for the horrific crimes of rape and sexual assault they committed against her for more than a decade. In an extraordinary act of bravery, she chose to make her months-long trial public, sharing her story with the world. In 2015, like me, she stood alone, her truth met with disbelief and indifference. But by refusing to be ashamed of her experience, she sent a powerful message: that survivors have nothing to hide and everything to gain by speaking out. Pelicot expressed hope that her decision would empower other victims to break their silence. Her victory gives me hope that a cultural shift is underway, where more women will be believed and justice will finally be served.

I share my story not to dwell on the past but to inspire others to fight for a future where women no longer have to prove their worth. Respect should not be conditional or dependent on how we choose to present ourselves.

As a model, I’ve faced countless instances where people assumed I lacked depth or intelligence simply because of my profession. But I’ve also had the opportunity to challenge those stereotypes, using my platform to advocate for change. The fashion industry, like many others, has its flaws, but it also has the power to be a force for good.

In recent years, I’ve worked to support initiatives that promote equality, diversity, and inclusion. From collaborating with organizations that fight for workplace safety and respect to mentoring young women who face similar challenges, I’ve found purpose in using my experiences to create a ripple effect of change.

To every woman reading this: know that your worth is immeasurable. Whether you’re wearing high heels or sneakers, a short skirt or a power suit, you deserve to be respected — not for how you look, but for who you are and what you bring to the table.

My journey has been one of discovering and asserting my value, even in the face of doubt and adversity. And while the road ahead may still be long, I am hopeful. The courage of women everywhere — those who have spoken out, those who continue to fight, and those who quietly resist — is proof that change is possible.

So, here’s to progress, resilience, and the power of women to shape a world where respect is not optional but a given. My name is Ambra Battilana Gutierrez, and this is more than my story — it’s a call to action.