A child’s first home should be warmth, protection, and unconditional love. But for one little girl, the world began with rejection. The moment she was born, her parents decided she looked too “different,” too “strange” to be theirs. They left her at the door of an orphanage and never came back. That baby girl was named Xueli — and today, she’s proving that the very thing that made her abandoned is what makes her extraordinary.

Xueli Abbing was born in China with albinism, a rare genetic condition that causes the skin, hair, and eyes to lack pigment. For some, it’s a simple biological variation. But in parts of the world, including where Xueli was born, albinism is still deeply misunderstood. Superstitions, ignorance, and fear have led to discrimination, cruelty, and even violence against people with albinism.

When the staff at the orphanage found her, they named her Xueli — a name as poetic as it is powerful. “Xue” means “snow,” and “Li” means “beautiful.” Together, her name translates to “beautiful snow,” a tribute to her pale hair and porcelain skin. In that simple act, someone saw the beauty her parents couldn’t.

For the first few years of her life, Xueli grew up surrounded by caregivers instead of family. But fate had a plan. A Dutch couple, moved by her story, adopted her and brought her to the Netherlands, giving her a loving home and a chance to grow up without fear. Her adoptive mother encouraged her curiosity, confidence, and kindness — and never once treated her albinism as a flaw.

At age 11, something remarkable happened. A designer in Hong Kong invited Xueli to take part in a photo shoot meant to celebrate “perfect imperfections.” The designer wanted to show that beauty exists in every form, in every face. For Xueli, it was her first real exposure to the world of fashion — a world that had long celebrated narrow definitions of beauty.

“It was a fantastic experience,” she later told the BBC. “I didn’t really understand what modeling was, but I loved it.”

From that moment, her life took a direction no one — not even she — could have predicted.

Despite her gentle nature, Xueli grew up fully aware of the darker side of how society treats people with albinism. In some parts of Africa and Asia, myths about albinism still persist — that their bones can bring luck or cure disease. Such superstitions have led to people with albinism being attacked or hunted. When Xueli learned about this, she said something that showed how deeply she understood her own luck: “I’m lucky I was only abandoned.”

That statement alone says everything about her strength.

In the years that followed, Xueli’s modeling career began to take shape. A London-based photographer discovered her through mutual contacts and saw what everyone else had missed — a quiet, powerful kind of beauty. He mentored her, treated her with respect, and helped her navigate the industry. Together, they created a series of portraits that caught international attention.

Those photos landed her a feature in Vogue Italia in 2019. She was just 15 years old.

“At first, I didn’t realize what a big deal it was,” she said. “It took me a while to understand why people were so excited.” But soon, she understood the significance. She wasn’t just modeling clothes — she was modeling change.

In an industry that often worships sameness, her presence was a statement. “There are still a lot of tall, thin models who look very similar,” she said, “but now, more people with disabilities or differences are being featured. That’s great — but it shouldn’t be special. It should be normal.”

Xueli’s vision goes beyond fashion. Her mission is to use her visibility to challenge the stereotypes surrounding albinism. She doesn’t want pity, and she doesn’t want to be called “an albino.” “That defines you by your condition,” she explained. “You should say ‘a person with albinism.’ Because that’s what we are — people first.”

Her outlook on beauty also runs deeper than appearances. Because her vision is limited — a common symptom of albinism — she says she pays more attention to what truly matters. “Maybe because I cannot see everything clearly, I focus more on people’s voices and what they have to say. So their inner beauty is more important to me.”

That simple wisdom cuts through the noise of the fashion world.

Every photoshoot she’s part of carries meaning. She avoids projects that exploit her condition, like those that cast her as an “angel” or a “ghost.” “It makes me sad,” she admitted, “because they’re not seeing me as a person, just as an image.” Instead, she chooses work that celebrates diversity and individuality.

Her modeling portfolio now includes major campaigns and features in several international magazines, but her purpose hasn’t changed. She uses her platform to advocate for understanding, inclusion, and compassion. Her dream is to help educate people about albinism and dismantle the myths that have cost so many innocent lives.

She’s also become a role model for children who feel “different.” Through her story, she shows them that difference is not a weakness — it’s a kind of light.

Xueli once said, “I want to change the world. I don’t agree that children should die because they are born with albinism.” That conviction, spoken by a teenager who once lay on an orphanage doorstep, carries more weight than most political speeches ever will.

Her adoptive mother says that what defines Xueli is not her beauty or her success, but her kindness. “She’s not trying to be famous,” her mother said. “She’s trying to make the world safer for others like her.”

It’s working. Schools, fashion houses, and charities have invited her to speak about her journey. She continues to model, study, and campaign for awareness, using every photo and every interview to rewrite the story of what beauty — and humanity — really look like.

Her life has come full circle. Once abandoned because she was “too strange,” Xueli now stands as living proof that there’s nothing strange about being extraordinary. Her very existence challenges cruelty, ignorance, and superficiality.

And that’s why her story resonates: because it’s not about fame, or fashion, or even survival. It’s about the quiet, unstoppable power of someone who was told she didn’t belong — and then turned that rejection into a message of love and acceptance heard around the world.

When she smiles now, you can see it — not just in her pale blue eyes or snow-white hair, but in the way she carries herself. A child once abandoned now stands in the spotlight by choice, using it not for herself, but for others still waiting to be seen.

She is, in every sense of the word, what her name promised the day she was found: beautiful snow.