Then 5th grade came along, and my girlfriends were getting asked out on dates. Not real dates, clearly because we were only in the 5th grade, but "would you sit next to me at lunch?", or "would you play with me at recess?" type dates. One girl's mother even accompanied she and her boyfriend on a date to the movies.
I was still scratching up my knees playing dodgeball. I threw the ball so hard sometimes that my teacher would make me sit out of the game because I was hurting my classmates. It's what made me popular.
I was super strong, but my running sucked; on and off the playground because I was starting to get left behind. Social activity wasn't at recess anymore. It was during class with love notes, "Will you be my girlfriend? Yes or No ".
Cupid wasn't sending any letters my way, and I felt for the first time emotionally hurt by my male classmates. I was no longer the coolest chick in class. For the first time I wanted to be wanted. The Greeks believed that which is beautiful is loved. Well if it was that easy (darn, I would learn later that it wasn't), I would have to beautify myself.
I started wearing my hair COMBED down, not just for picture day, and the first day of school. I wore my better shirts, which I clearly believed were flannels, not the hand me down t-shirts my mom would get from conferences at work. I stopped eating leftover pieces of chicken for a midnight snack because I saw my big belly for the first time, and I made my mom buy me new jeans where the bottom of the jean actually touched my shoe. I didn't know anything was wrong with my jeans until my dad came to me one day and said "Are you waiting for a flood?". Apparently my jeans that were kissing my ankles were called "high waters".
I learned beauty and fashion. And as a result I also learned beauty and conforming. For the first time I wanted to look like and be like everyone else. I trained myself to want what everyone wanted; beauty, which would lead to love. And I used an attempted mimicry of Venus as my tool to build what I didn't know would be a house of insecurity.
I showcase my beauty first, instead of my strength. Like with dodgeball, I'm afraid it might hurt.
I'm still learning that love should come first. That which is loved feels beautiful.
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