The Real Reality of Things

The terms body image and self-love are dissipated in society quite often. In this short story, the reality of the negative words we think about ourself is explored.

“You’re not worth it.” These words were iterated to a young child of 8 years. “Your face is disproportionate.” The girl, Mel stood there accepting these words, used to the routine influx of negativities thrown her way. “Your skin is too pale.” “Your hair is too dry.” “Your smile is too crooked.” After her daily dose of insulting remarks, she walked away to the haven of her room. There she sat alone believing that she can escape those dreadful words. However, there is no such thing as an escape.

“Don’t listen to her Mel. She’s evil. She’s cruel.” Mel told herself as she paced the wooden floor of her room. She continuously attempted to tell herself not to listen. Yet the words still hummed in the back of her mind, and they shook her deep in the bones. These were not words Mel can instantly delete from her mind. They were always there.

Mel awakened from a slumber the next morning and shuffled to prepare for school. She ran a brush through her hair and tied it up in a sloppy ponytail. She grabbed her Selena Gomez book bag and stealthily walked out of her room, trying as hard as she could to avoid the iterator of the harmful words. The front door was in sight…

“Mel!” the voice said. Mel turned around and shuddered. “I was just about to go to school, I need to…”

“Why Mel. Don’t you know how to dress yourself properly.”

“I have no time.”

“Mel, don’t you know how to tie your hair nicely? And what is with that childish bag of yours?”

“I need to go.”

“Mel, darling. Don’t you know that you cannot present yourself to the world in such a devastating manner.”

Mel stopped any movements. She wanted to leave so bad, to run through the front door which was so near her. She could have done it. She could have just walked out, yet she stayed put. Her mind continued to wonder how imperfect she must be. She was trapped in a prison. However, she was holding the key right in her hand.

“What else is wrong with me?” Mel asked.

 

And they stood there discussing the utter imperfections of this young child. Upon discussing what Mel could do to achieve a better sighting, she left to school.

 

Mel sat there at her desk with her hands folded in a certain way and her lips pursed to a precise thickness.

“No way you have a Selena Gomez bag!” her friend Alina stated. Mel grabbed the bag and covered the picture of Selena Gomez. She needed to buy a new bag because she didn’t like it anymore.

“I don’t like this bag anymore.” Mel said. And she continued to repeat this phrase in her head until she could fully absorb its meaning and accept the new reality.

“How on earth could you not like Selena Gomez! You’re lying to me Mel. We always sing her songs in the car together.” Alina stated confidently.

They’re not considered lies, Mel thought. Mel believed this to be the new truth. Altering your thoughts were in no way a lie. Truths are just a dynamic concept. One day she loved pigtails. Now, she loves ponytails. A new truth. One day she loved playing football. Now, she loves dressing in skirts and cheerleading. A new truth. One day she thought she was pretty. Now, she thinks she is utterly disgusting. A new truth. Because that is exactly what she has been told. That is exactly what she is believing.

After a disapproving day of viewing the children of her class and how they possess the traits and items she does not, she returned home.

Standing outside the door of her house she knew what she was getting herself into. Mel knew that she would be crushed to bits because of the mighty weight of disapproval. She was unaccepted and she knew it. However, she willingly enters the door of her so-called home.

“You’re back Mel.”

“Unfortunately, I am.” Mel replied.

“Oh honey, you should be so grateful that you are back. I know you sometimes get annoyed at the statements I say, but I’m just trying to be honest, you know? I want to enlighten you of the things you don’t know. I Want you Mel, to be the absolute greatest.” She walked over to Mel and bent down to speak with her.

“Tell me then, what is wrong with me?” Mel asked

“Well for one, you are quite chubby. We should cut down your meal intake.” She said, pinching the sides of Mel’s stomach.

“What else is wrong with me?” tears began to spring to her eyes.

“Toughen up now. We don’t want people to think you’re vulnerable and sensitive. You need to stay fierce.”

Mel wiped away some of her tears. “What else is wrong with me?”

“Well you’re not tall enough. That’s not model material, and what a shame that is. Too bad we can’t really fix that, now can we? Too bad that this is how you have to be. Isn’t that a disappointment sweet Mel?”

“It is. I guess I’m just not good enough. But please tell me, what else is wrong with me, Mel?”