Make Up

Why do I wear makeup every day? Why do I worry so much about what people think of me? Because I'm not me without it.

I sat in the back of class, my compact mirror in one hand and an eyeliner pencil in the other.  Touching up during school was something I did every day.  I had to look my best, after all.

"You don't need all that, you know."

I looked up.  My friend James sat down in the chair beside me.  He eyed the eyeliner pencil in my hand, his mouth set in a stubborn line.

I looked down at the pencil, then at the mirror, then back to the pencil.

Neither of us said anything for a few moments.

I wanted to tell him that I wished I didn't need it.  I wanted to tell him how horrible and ugly and stupid I felt when I wasn't wearing all this makeup.  I wanted him to know how much my life depended on fitting in, being called pretty and making friends.  No one wanted to be friends with someone who was ugly.  And no one said you were pretty if you weren't.

And I'm not pretty without the makeup.

I wanted to tell him that I wished I could leave my house without covering up my shiny, splotchy, unevenly-toned face.  I wanted to tell him that every night, I thought about what it would feel like to not have to put makeup on, not to have to cover myself up to get people to look twice at me.  I wanted to tell him I really cared about what people thought about my looks, and that if they didn't think I was pretty, then I must not be.

But all I said was, "I do."

Reviews

[Christyn Jeffries]

amen, sister. Hits you right in the gut.