Hide the Girl. (Pt. 1)

Since I got to this school, I have piled myself in makeup. I think I do this (no, I know I do this) because I each time I look in the mirror, I see just a couple more flaws. (It must be because of the shock I had from all the beautiful people here. Perhaps I feel the need to catch up. (I write all of this as if I am guessing))  I don’t like the way makeup feels most times.  But I hate what looks back at me when I go to the bathroom.  ( I tend to use the big stall because I like windows).  In there, my reflection is unavoidable.

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Usually, I don’t wake up in the morning thinking, “hey, lemme pile some dirt stuff onto my face, not just because I like how it makes my face break out, but also because it feels WONDERFUL.”

Sometimes I put just enough on in the morning, a little here and there.  Then I go and look into a mirror to fix my hair, and compulsively, I put more.

I wasn’t always like this.

At the beginning of tenth grade, I prided in using minimal makeup only on special occasions (I used to wear none. I thought I was “makeup abstinent” (I never liked how makeup looked on my peers.  I knew they didn’t need it)) .  As the year progressed, I grew a need for concealer.  I felt dead without it. (This is a sort of lost virginity, the beginning of addiction)

It continued from there.

(I don’t want to tell the whole story, or maybe there’s really no story to tell…) I think this need for a second and new face has sprouted quickly from that small seed in tenth grade.  It’s now a vine that won’t quite let me go, (I’m kicking) and I’m fighting but it keeps pulling me back.  My eyes have resorted to a daily screaming for help (eyeliner dries my eyes) because my skin is too muzzled and quiet (and dry and covered) to call out.  (my screaming eyes might also be because I’ve lost my glasses).

 

Author: Sidney Medina

I dedicate these works to the steady flow of strangers, acquaintances, and teachers who constantly shaped me, vanishing before I thanked them. They pulled me from a hole I didn't know I was in.

One thought on “Hide the Girl. (Pt. 1)”

  1. I like the comparison of yourself to a vine, growing. This was an interesting piece and I am glad you posted it.

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