You're beautiful

My ears could not believe what just passed through them. The Popsicle I was eating began to melt, its contents trickling on my feet leisurely.

“Look at yourself, stop stuffing your mouth every half an hour. Workout and cut down some weight.” My mother’s words echoing in my head. My mind stopped functioning and things around me began to get blurry, my eyes welled up with tears.

I don’t remember how long I have been sitting there, but judging from the Popsicle, it was long enough because only the stick was left in my hand.

I hustled back to my room. Shutting the door behind me I gamboled onto my bed and begin to cry out loud.

“Everything will be alright.” I blubbered to myself. But it sounded like false hope. Everybody I know tells me how ugly I look or how funny I look when I try to dress pretty. There is a long list of comments which pierce my heart daily, I wonder with all those holes in it how does my heart still manage to pump blood in my veins to keep me alive.

Starting from my siblings to my coworkers and also the people I hardly know weirdly look at me, like I am the reason why kids are starving in Africa. But who is going to tell them that it’s not what it looks like. I am not overweight because I eat very often; I am fat because I have PCOS.

Yes. Polycystic ovary syndrome. It’s a funny thing to happen to someone. Because from the outside you look like a sumo wrestler, but on the inside, you are worse than a guy whose bones are visible- covered under a thin layer of skin.

I was a foodie before all this happened to me. Maybe this is why everybody thinks that my weight is my own doing. Sometimes when I eat something I feel like eating, my body doesn’t allow me to savor it, I usually throw up. Apart from that, my hormones are wobbly which makes me feel queasy and they also leave me with a new zit quite often. And oh, the uncountable medicines I have to gulp down.

On top of that, I have to pay visits to the doctor every second week. With all those bizarre tests they require. And every time I go there, Dr. Joanna tells me I need to reduce weight. I tell her that I try but it doesn’t work. With the look in her eyes, I know that she does not believe in what I am saying.

With all this going on with me and my mother who knows every single detail of my current situation, she said what she said and it was worse than any other mean comment I have ever received. She knows Popsicles are not proper food but in this heat, it just cools me down somehow. So they are the only things that keep me happy these days. However, her words fell on me like the rooftop which was sheltering me from the hailing comments of people. And when it fell on me it hurt me more than any hailstone would ever hurt me.

I cried myself to sleep, not knowing what I will do the next morning when it is my best friend’s birthday. We know each other from school and I can’t let this party go by just because I feel ugly and am emotionally unstable. But still, I am scared of our schoolmates who will be there at that party.

At the breakfast table, I did not talk to my mother much, but I and my younger sister had a little chitchat.

“What are you going to wear to the party, Alicia?” Sarah asked.

Although she is younger than me and is only in middle school, she has a better sense of dressing than I do. Not just that she knows more about fashion all over; and even though she makes fun of how I look sometimes, I know she doesn’t do it in a mean way as other people do.

“That’s what siblings do.” She tells me. But even then her words sometimes get stuck in my head and I try hard to brush them off.

“I’ll help you get ready if you hurry up and finish your breakfast before I finish mine,” she told me making a funny face by sticking her tongue out and winking at me.

“Oh that’s not a problem little one, look at your plate and look at mine, I will finish this in a jiffy,” I answered her pointing at her plate hijacked with pancakes.

We both laughed at that. That’s when Isaac peeped out of his book, eyeing us to stay quiet. He is the youngest of the three of us but he acts like a grandpa. Busy in his world, reading most of the time. I wonder how he survives in the school like this, with all his grandpa charms. 

Sarah and I went to my room after she was done with her mountain of pancakes. She looked at my choice of dress and told me that I will look like an old lady in a dress like this. She stepped into my closet and after what felt like an eternity she brought out a dress I never wore in ages because it was kind of too revealing for me. I gazed at the dress which was stunningly pretty – black, sleeveless, and a little shimmery on the ends. I told her that if I wear this I will be a laughing stock for all the people at the party but she won’t budge. So I gave in.

She made me sit on the chair in front of my dresser and told me to close my eyes so that she can do her magic with her beautician skills.

“Don’t utter a single word and keep your eyes shut.” She told me in a bossy manner.

I could feel that she is coloring my face with makeup and then doing my hair with a curling iron, which took her a while because my hair is long.

“And now you can open your eyes, pretty woman.” I could feel the joy in her words when she said it.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The girl in the mirror looked like me but somehow she managed to look prettier and more elegant at the same time. I gave her a big hug and thanked her.

“No, no no, don’t get messy and ruin your hair, they’re a piece of work,” she instructed me.

When I arrived at the party I felt nervous even though Sarah told me a million times that I look wonderful.

 I wished my best friend Hannah a happy birthday with a big hug and a kiss on her cheek handing her the gift I bought for her. She was looking so beautiful. She is the most elegant and ravishing woman I know but she still tells me how she thinks that I look perfect, prettier than she is. Which I don’t believe in.

Hannah got busy, which I saw coming because obviously, it’s her birthday. So I sat on the couch in the corner. People whom I knew from school had a hard time recognizing me, but they did meet with me politely and nicely. Everything was going smoothly. All my fears of being ridiculed because of my looks put at bay.

It didn’t last long.

The queen bee of our school made a magnificent entry. i didn’t know that Hannah would invite her too.

“Hello, Alicia.” She said with a smile but her tone full of taunt.

“Hey there, Allyson,” I replied to her sour greeting.

Then I went back to being busy on the couch, looking at people like I am watching a movie on a Friday night at my home.

Before cake cutting, Hannah dragged me to the front and made me stand right next to her. We all sang happy birthday to her as little kids do and after she made her wish and cut the cake, she turned towards me and stretched her hand holding a piece of cake. I ate a bit and hugged her, whispering in her ear, “You are the most wonderful friend one could ever wish for.”

“Don’t give her a piece of cake; it won’t be enough for her. Give her the whole cake.”

 I turned around and it was none other than Allyson; standing there with people who were trying hard not to laugh at her mean comment.

I was drowning in humiliation.

“Mind your own business, Allyson it’s not high school anymore,” Hannah said in my defense.

 “I am just stating the facts,” Allyson replied shamelessly.

Tears rolled down my cheeks and I couldn’t breathe. The walls of that house were contracting and it was hard for me to stay there. I bustled out of that place; I couldn’t take it anymore even though I heard Hannah calling out my name.

“Why God Why? Why is it happening to me?” I filed my complain in the air to the man upstairs trying to figure out what I did wrong to get tortured like this.

I sat on the chair on the porch, nobody was there. I had all the space I needed to regain my strength so I could head back home. I could hear the music coming from the inside. I wonder why Hannah didn’t come out, but it’s not her fault either. She is the host and she needs to take care of her guests, no matter how mean they are.

“Alicia” someone called. A voice I didn’t recognize.

I looked up and saw a grown-up version of my high school crush, Jake.

“Jake?” I asked full of curiosity.

“Long time no see.” He replied.

“Yeah, long time,” I said agreeing with him.

He sat in the chair next to me. “I have something for you if you don’t mind. May I?”

I nodded in agreement.

He took out his phone and played a song. I immediately recognized it. It was the song we danced to on our prom night- you’re Beautiful by James Blunt.

“You remembered,” I exclaimed. My sadness vanished and my voice filled with joy.

“How can I forget the night when I danced with the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.” He said with a smile on his face.