Decide

Frowning at herself in the mirror, Anto raked her long, slender fingers through her blonde hair, feeling the unsatisfying brittle texture of each lock. She’d tried so many natural remedies and hair masks to fix the damage that was done to her hair but nothing ever worked. She scoured the internet and flipped through countless magazines only to feel helpless in the end. She looked at her reflection with dissatisfaction, bringing her fingers up to her face to gently caress her skin. She wanted so badly to look like the other girls her age, who had perfect button noses, silky hair, and glowing skin. Of course, these looks can be easily achieved through makeup and photoshop, but there was not enough makeup in the world to fix her blemishes and no amount of photoshopping could ever fix her insecurities. She sighed, beginning to braid her damp hair into two pigtails, getting ready to air-dry them. She had learned from magazines and online sources that airdrying was much healthier for your hair and hopefully, her naturally straight but frizzy hair could become curly and voluminous, by the time she wakes up in the morning and unbraids her hair. Oh but this wasn’t the first time she’s done this. So, she knew what to expect. Curly...yes. Voluminous...well, big? But perfect? Most definitely not.

“Damn it...I broke out again.” she said placing a finger on the new blemish on her skin. Her family did not have the best genetic pool. So, she had been struggling with extremely bad acne. It saddened her to brush her fingertips over her skin and feel more bumps than simply just smooth skin. She tortured her face by caking on pounds and pounds of makeup everyday, in an attempt to make herself look a little better. However, she never had much skill in the art of makeup and the makeup only made her acne worse. “Am I really seeing this right now? Are you seriously pitying yourself in the mirror...again?” a voice from behind her said. She turned around to see her mom standing there, with her arms crossed. Anto lowered her head in shame as her mom walked over to her and gave her a comforting hug. “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re beautiful!” Anto rolled her eyes.

“I look like a prepubescent male oompa loompa.”

“Antoinette, you stop that right now!”

“What? It’s the truth…”

“Ah-ah...I said stop. Stop being so mean to yourself! You are a beautiful, charismatic, sweet young lady and anyone who doesn’t see that needs to get their eyes checked!”

“Yeah, well, I already got mine checked and I didn’t need glasses.”

Anto’s mother sighed in defeat. “You are hopeless. Fine! You are ugly then!” she yelled. Anto’s ears perked up and she gasped, feeling offended. Why was she saying this to her? Her own mother?

“Mom! You’re my...you’re my mom! You’re supposed to say that I’m pretty, even if I’m not.”

“Well make up your choice Antoinette! Are you pretty or are you ugly?”

Anto dropped her shoulders, unsure of what to say. It seemed as if all words had left her and now, she’s standing in front of her mother completely and utterly speechless. Her mom’s eyes softened at the girl’s expression and sighed again. “Because it’s your opinion that makes all the difference. If you see yourself as ugly, then others will too. So, stop being so hard on yourself and just decide that you’re pretty. I’m going to cook dinner now…” her mom left the room and Anto stared blankly into space, thinking of what her mother had just said to her. Her mother’s right. She always is.