Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Fitting In

By This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time.
More by this author
I was always an outsider. I never really fitted in. At school, I was bullied because of the way I acted... the way I talked... the way I looked... everything. At home, I was always called useless and a waste of space. I have seven brothers and sisters and all of them are good at something. I’m the exception. I always injured myself at sport. If I tried to play an instrument, I was out of time. I draw like a three year old. I can’t song or dance or act. I’m no good at school and in lessons.
I went to college and I was just ignored. I was that girl who sat at the back of the room that nobody noticed. I sat and watched everyone else live. They went to parties, had sleepovers, joined a band, passed their exams, and did all of that without even saying hello to me. No one even looked at me or thought that I might even had wanted to join in.
I was bitter. I hated myself for being me. So, I went to university. I completely changed. I wasn't going to be that loser anymore.
First I went shopping. I usually hated shopping and never knew where to go, but I heard about New Look and River Island a lot at college. I figured I should start there. I bought five pairs of skinny jeans, four pair of shorts, three pairs of patterned leggings, two cardigans, nine tops, five pairs of shoes, two bags, three necklaces, ten bracelets, a ring, four headbands and two dresses. It cost a small fortune, but I figured it would be enough to start my new wardrobe.
I moved onto Boots and bought some foundation, concealer, lip gloss, mascara, eyeliner, and seven different nail polishes. I would figure out how to use them once I got home. I spent my last couple of quid on some hairspray and planned to borrow one of my sister hair straighteners.
Once I got home, the make-over began. I dressed down into my underwear, which were very plain and embarrassing bra and girl boxers. I'd forgotten to pick up some new ones. I must remember to do that next time I'm in town.
I think this was the first time that I realized I didn't have a bad figure. Actually, I had a very good figure. My hips were maybe a bit too wide and my ankles too skinny, but apart from that, I liked it.
I spent the next hour putting together outfits. I wasn't too bad at this. I did get a lot of help from the fashion magazines that my sister seamed to collect. I tried to place them back in the right place before she noticed.
I then moved onto my hair. It was a lot harder than it looked, but eventually I'd tamed my usual scraggly curls into long straight hair that ended in slight waves to give it a bit of body. I had to spray an awful amount of hairspray to keep it like that. It gave me a slight coughing fit but my hair looked amazing.
My make-up was surprisingly easy. I wiped on foundation until all my blemishes were covered and my skin looked even. I then smudged some eyeliner under my eyes, which instantly made them look bigger and helped to outline them by adding a bit of mascara. I smeared a bit of lip gloss on my lips and I was finished. I didn't bother with nail varnish. I could do that later. I stepped back and stared at myself in the mirror. A very beautiful girl stared back. I blinked a couple of times and burst into a smile. I looked good. I looked better than good. I looked actually pretty. I couldn't wait to start university looking like this.
***
I could feel everyone staring. I resisted from ducking my head and hiding, like I normally would. I took a breath, stood tall and held my head up high. I liked this. The attention was amazing.
It took me a while to realize that the people staring were also sneering and laughing and worse of all pointing. I froze for a second then took off to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and almost cried at what I saw. My hair was frizzy and gone slightly singed at the ends. My foundation was patchy and was too dark for my skin tone. I had panda eyes from all the eyeliner and my tears were causing it to streak down my face. My lip gloss was a horrid orange colour and was smudged around my mouth. I looked down and saw how horribly my outfit clashed.
Had I always looked like this? Was it just an illusion? Where was that beautiful girl I'd saw in the mirror? I then realized that I hadn't recreated myself. I'd tried to make myself look like one of my beautiful sisters. That's who I saw in the mirror. That wasn't me. I was just some stupid girl, who was way out of her depth. The tears fell down my face faster as I broke down. I'd failed. I'm never going to be normal.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback