What is it like to be beautiful? I don’t think I’ve ever known that feeling. Some girls do it as naturally as breathing, but I struggle every day just to look okay. I’ll never know what it’s like too wear makeup so skillfully applied in all the right places, that guys jump at any chance to be near me. I’ll never know what it’s like to stand on a scale and smile with smug satisfaction at the tiny numbers on the display. And I’ll never fit into any of the sizes that mark the other girls as desirable. I can only ever hope to achieve invisibility and avoid taunts. I think I’ll die alone because I’m attractive enough for anyone besides my mom and dad to love me.
Clothes shopping for me is more painful as having my heart ripped out of my chest. Especially if my ‘friends’ decide they want to join in the fun.
“What about this one?”
“No. Definitely not. She’s just too big. It would look great on you, though.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah.You should try it on.”
And so they giggle and leave me alone in the fitting room to face my excessively round thighs that utterly refuse to squeeze into the skinny jeans I’ve been coveting for so long. Tears burn in my eyes, dropping down my ‘cute’ face. My mom calls it cute, but only to make me feel better. The right word would be ‘fat’. I get stares of disgust all the time. I pass people and I can almost hear them thinking ‘Oh thank God that’s not me. Ew.’ It makes me wan to hide in the bathroom, maybe even flush myself down the toilet. Except I’m too fat too down the drains.
I’ve tried every diet, and I go to the gym every day, even cutting out studies if I have to, in a desperate attempt to achieve slender perfection. But nothing works. I’ve always been and always will be ugly. No matter what I wear, no matter how I style my hair, no matter what. The models in magazines make me want to throw up, run away and cry, and stare in complete awe at the same time. They’re just so perfect, with their tiny waists and disgusted sneers. I’m almost unworthy to look at them. But I can’t resist. Their total perfection is too hard for me to ignore. But I’ll never be drop-dead gorgeous, stunningly beautiful, really pretty, or even just nice.
So I just want to know one thing: does it feel good to be beautiful? Is it nice to know that people always stare at you enviously when you pass by? Do you feel victorious when you snatch up all the dates? Does it make you glow on the inside to know that you can make a poor, stupid, fat girl cry with your superiority? Is that the kind of thing that you live for? Is that what it’s like to feel beautiful?