Imagine a young girl. Sun kissed freckles on her ivory smooth skin. Light brown hair with spaghetti noodle strips of blonde throughout her hair that is brought up into high pigtails with pink ribbons. Big hazel eyes shaped like almonds that are always glassy curiously wandering from object to object around her. Her eyes always smile back into yours when she finally locks eyes with you. Her mom tries to take photos of her but she can never get her to pose properly. She does her sorority girl head tilt or her leg is high up in the air, doing its own thing.
The red sweater of her catholic school uniform is two sizes too big for her skinny and lengthy body. Her green skirt, which has orange and yellow plaid stripes, falls down to her knees as the fabric scratches her skin. She grows up happy, missing her front two teeth but regardless, she is always smiling. In kindergarten, the older kids of her small school start to tease her about her stomach. She has bad posture so her stomach would stick out as she walked through the halls. They called her things like, “cereal box,” asking her what she is stuffed with. She doesn’t register this in her youth all she thought was, “The big kids like me!”
The phrase, “Make them laugh with you before they laugh at you,” became her new motto. It was her way to point out her flaws before others had the chance. She’s been in dance classes since she could remember. Her mom always told her that she was shy until the day they took her to ballet. Mom would say, “Like a flower, you opened your heart to the world once you hit that dance floor.” The classes have changed, now her class starts to work on posture in ballet. Her teacher harps on her the most because she stands like a crane. The skinny, mean, Italian teacher used to point out her flaws to the class, humiliating her. The teacher constantly repeated, “Imagine a string going through your back and out the top of your head.” Why would there ever be a string going through her head? The girls in the class used to pick up on the critiques the teacher would blatantly throw out. She didn’t look like the other girls, she tried to but she could never make herself as pretty as them.
She finally fixes her posture but her body is starting to fill in come middle school. Her once skinny legs are now beefy thighs. Her plump cute butt begins to fill to a mini Kim Kardashian for her figure and her bra size jumps about four sizes up. As a twelve year old, she now has to get her bra fittings at Lane Bryant instead of Victoria Secret, like the other girls. She knew who the boys thought were beautiful and she tried to become them. She sat in her room pushing her finger into her cheek and smiling so hard so that she could make herself have a dimple. Not only does her body begin to grow but so does one prominent feature on her face. Her nose.
The boys she grew up being friends with start a competition to see who can grasp her butt in the hallway without her looking. They start to see her for her body and not who she is. As the boys begin to analyze her body, they follow their way up to her face. Bam. There it is. Right in the center. “Toucan nose, toucan nose.” They shout throughout the hall, encouraging others to jump into the game. As she walks out of class she puts her head down and sculpts her body into a hunch to go unnoticed. That is until she starts to see kids tripping around her. “You should watch out around her, she can use that thing to trip you.” The kids cackled as they would strut away so proud of their “clever jokes.” She would sit in class so aware of the view the people had from their seats. When she used to look at the pictures she took with her friends she would see beauty. All she sees now is her nose.
It’s the end of her middle school journey. She starts to notice a change in the teachers that knew her and loved her respectful snappy comebacks and the normal whispers grew louder. She could tell something was different, something was off. She was in her study hall room sitting with one of her friends when she heard the two boys in the back of the room laughing. She asks her friend if she knows anything about what is going on. His friend then says, “Your nudes leaked.” She has never sent nudes in her life. Her mother just let her get a phone and she thought that sending photos naked at that age was illegal and wrong. She was innocent, the friend that needed to have every reference explained to them. Why would she send that to anyone? She hasn’t even taken any. She was consumed with anger, fear and confusion. She went home and cried to her mother and father, leaving both the parents enraged. They know their daughter, she would never behave like this.
Her father is a police officer and very protective of his little girl. Both of her parents went to the school. A mama and papa bear moment. After speaking with the principal, they saw no action being taken. They then went to the superintendent, whom they knew very well. He sent an email explaining that there are fake images spreading around the school and for the staff to understand that they must bring it to his attention if they become aware of any developments of the situation. Finally, after having to push the school to solve the situation, the school calls the girl into the vice principals office. After speaking to all the males in the grade who had the pictures, he tells her that the kid she was friends with when she was in third grade who transferred schools is responsible for editing her face onto the woman in the photos body.
High school comes and she begs her mom to take her to the cosmetic surgeon. She walks into this fluorescently lit building with the smell of purell consuming her breath. She slumps her way in and sits in the leather chair that hugs you as soon as you plop into it. She looks to her right, empowered by the possibility of change. As the doctor walks into the room she sees him look at her with a twinkle in his eye. He sees the damage and is intrigued by it. He examines her face and tells her something that will change this little girl's life forever. He tells her that she has a severely deviated septum and will need surgery to fix it. He then throws out the idea of having a rhinoplasty. This is the medical term for a “nose job.” She’s fourteen now so she sees what the girls are supposed to look like online. She begs and begs and begs her mom and dad to please, please let her do it. They know the torture her nose has caused her over the years, they love her, so they approve.
It’s the middle of her freshman year of high school now and her body doesn’t look like the other girls. Older guys start to approach her in the hallway, attempting to take advantage of her curves and her ignorance. She starts to dress in baggy clothes just to be left alone. Her young love for attention is dying rapidly. Her voice grows louder and louder, hiding her insecurities. She chops off all her hair, typical result of a mental breakdown. She comes home crying everyday because she hates when she looks in the mirror. Even when she just catches a glimpse in the windows at school as she passes by, she is disgusted.
Now it is the summer after her freshman year. She makes her mom schedule her pre-operation appointment. She views this surgery as a clean slate for her. She won’t be able to eat after the surgery, so she’ll lose weight. Her face will look completely different going into her sophomore year. She is going to be the hottest thing to walk through that school. Well, not quite.
It’s the day of her surgery and she has the 8 a.m. slot, “First nose,” the doctor calls it. She can not get one minute of sleep because she just wants it done. Her mom takes her to the hospital and signs her in. The anesthesiologist comes in, and she realizes that this is real now. She can feel the excitement flowing up and down her body. Or is that the saline? She can taste it in her mouth. Her heart begins to race as they begin to wheel her away from her mom. Tears stream down her face as they move her onto the operating table. The wires hanging from her chest wrapped around her body like vines to a building. Entangling and suffocating. She looks to the tray as she sees the reflection of the shiny tools that will soon be breaking her face. It is at that moment that she realizes that she wasn’t fully prepared for this. She lays her head back as she inhales the gas. Her eyes slowly close and open, trying to fight to cry. Black.
She tries to open her eyes when all of a sudden she throws up. The acid flying up her throat was more painful than the surgery itself. After strenuous gagging she catches her breath. The nurse explains to her that they had to break every bone in her nose and rebuild it, “There was too much damage,” they say. She can barely hear the nurse over her head spinning as if she's on a merry go round. She builds up enough strength in her arm to reach for her nose. She sees through the slits in her swollen eyes, the IV staring back at her. Pumping her body with fluid, coursing it through her veins. She has a cast across her whole face. There was a wrap that pulled on both her ears that kept the tip of her nose stable. It caused more pain than the surgery. The mask left indents on the back of her ears and the rubbing turned to a rash. Her face is unrecognizable. Puffed up like the marshmallow man.
The ride home is beyond dreadful for her. This was no arm surgery or leg surgery. This was in the center of her face. Crucial to basic functions like breathing and speaking. The pain made it hard to think and to function. Her mom had to give her baths for weeks and she could never change herself. She became obsessed with the show called, “Bachelor in Paradise.” She watched hot people fall in love and find each other on this beautiful beach. This only made her think about how lonely she was on this plush, fading leather brown couch.
The incision necessary for the surgery was at the bottom of her nose. When she talked or opened her mouth, it was a pull on the new and numb skin. There was no escape. There was no relief for her. She was constantly reminded. She didn’t sleep for weeks. She couldn’t bring herself to eat. No one cared. No one noticed. She waited for someone, family or friends, to come and visit her. No one came. She was alone and going through her own personal hell.
She tried to remind herself of the girl in the pig tails. The young girl was happy and loved but she had a hard time finding her. She spent a whole summer on the couch trying to fight and recover for the fresh start of her sophomore year. She tries out for the cheerleading team in hopes that maybe she’ll make some friends. They look like a happy family. Cheerleaders have to be happy, right? Her face is about ten times as swollen as it was before the surgery. At least her nose is smaller.
Then it comes time to fit into her cheerleading uniform. She doesn’t look like the other girls. In the pictures she clearly is not comfortable in her skin. She played many sports throughout her life, even playing volleyball in those tight spandex didn’t make her as insecure as she was in her cheer skirt. When she danced, she wore tight leotards, but this was different. Her confidence was completely gone. The cheerleaders in her high school were forced to wear their uniforms throughout the whole school day. She could hear the comments as she walked through the hallway, “Yikes, she does not look good,” or, “Who let her wear that?” She tried to hold her head high until she got home and could let out her cries.
She lost herself and tried to find herself in the food. She hit the mark, two hundred pounds. She couldn't believe it. Her body fought her in everway. She was put on birth control at a young age which made her body add another twenty-three pounds to her load. She lost her spark, her drive. Every time she tried she would hit a wall that would stop her path. She dropped all of her sports, started to donate her clothes that she felt made her look even bigger.
Not only was she getting tormented at school for her body, it followed her home. It was her birthday party now. Middle of July and a beautiful day. She was so excited to have the family gathered and together on such a nice day by the pool. Her grandmother was always a hard woman who voiced every opinion she had. Her grandmother was a strong woman who survived a lot in her life. With eight kids and twenty grandchildren, she found it easier to be honest with each, about all of their life decisions. The girl comes outside and the first thing her grandmother says is, “You’re too big to be wearing that.” She was in her favorite bikini which she actually feels good in, now she doesn’t. Her whole family was now over analyzing her body in front of her because of that one comment on her birthday. Immediately, she goes upstairs to change into her black full piece and put on a pair of loose shorts that she can wear in the pool.
Clearly, by the example of her grandmother, her father believed that, “words don’t matter, actions do.” Her father was skinny and active at a young age and wanted his daughter to be happy and only worry about being a kid. Her dad, in his own way, was trying to encourage her to workout and better herself. Being told that she doesn’t look the way she is supposed to or that she, “Could be so beautiful,” tortured her. She developed an eating disorder, not making herself throw up but binge eating her feelings. She started to hide food in her room so that her dad or her brother wouldn’t make comments when she went for a snack. “Do you really need that much?”
When she would try to nap her sorrow away, her once kind younger brother would sneak in and take videos of her chubby arms spread all throughout her sheets. He also managed to capture her heavy belly falling out of her XL sweatpants. If she was speaking or joking around with her parents, her brother would put it in slow motion so he could see her loose skin and fat wagging around. Then he would send it out to her friends online.
Her mom was so skinny and beautiful but also battled her own body image issues. She didn’t want her daughter to experience self hate and maintain her diet that she did now as an adult. The girl would not hear her father compliment her mother as much as he should have in front of his daughter. She was in denial, there's no way her body would change that much. She was losing control.
She downloads the calorie counter on her phone and starts to pack home lunches instead of buying her lunch at school like the other kids. Instead of eating sandwiches with fluff and peanut butter, she was eating rice cakes and nuts. Her parents didn’t want her calorie counting at a young age but she saw her mother do it and she thought it might help. Her father was “proud” of her, he just wanted what he thought was best. “You look better.” She hates that line, mostly because that brought hope that she knew would be crushed. “Better,” what exactly is better?
Her face holds it’s swollen stature throughout the photos of prom and the videos her friends would take. She hides in the corner of every picture trying to find the angle that would help her seem skinny. Her friends would say that she was beautiful whenever she would get down but, she never believed a word of it. She had been beaten down for too long. She’s seventeen now. Her face is still as round as a beach ball and her muffin top hangs over the same way the muffins hang over the wrapper at dunkin donuts. Her best friend, the boy she has been in love with since sixth grade, finally starts to see her. She knows that he could never view her in a romantic way. Who would want to be with a walking whale?
She never dated anyone before. Never had her first kiss, never held a boy’s hand. She’s seventeen now and the boy she fell for isn’t a boy, he’s a man. He takes her to the beach where they sit surrounded by blue sky, salt water in their hair, symphony of seagull calls and tall grass smacking the sand behind them. They talk about their lives and what they want. They talk about how they are going to chase their own dreams and how they hope they can achieve their personal goals by each other's sides. Like her, he never had a girlfriend before, never a first kiss. They learn together. Even though they are so mature in their relationship and so many parts of their lives except this one. It makes it so much more magical.
The night of their first kiss is funny to them now. After the first date, he didn’t kiss her. He didn’t want her to think that’s all he wanted. He just wanted to be with her. Their second date, he brought her home. He stared at her trying to build the courage up to make the move. In a nervous tone he asked, “Are you gonna kiss me?” She knew what she wanted. She quickly says, “No you’re going to kiss me, if you want to, you kiss me.” She is a strong girl but she has had the idea of what her relationship would be like. She wanted to feel wanted. She wanted him to know that he is going to have to put in work and go out of his comfort zone. She walked up to the door in shock. No way! She opened the door and sauntered over to the beige couch that laid right in front of the door. She spun and plopped on the couch feeling like she was flying with the biggest smile on her face from ear to ear. Every time they kissed, they got a little better than the clanging of teeth smashing together. She knew he was the man she would be with for a long time for many reasons but one of his behaviors made it very clear.
When they would move their relationship more seriously, every time they were physical he would ask before acting. “Are you ok if I…” He was a gentleman. She built up a lot of courage and showed him the side of her she wasn’t fond of five months into them dating. She took her time after months of conversations about their bodies and how being physical isn’t to lose their ‘v-card’ but to really love each other and to want to show how they love each other in every possible way.
They have their dates in the city, their drives on the beach, and all of their mini adventures. They formed a big future for themselves at such a young age. They have a connection that almost seems to be too good to be true. She is so happy but her mind is fighting it. When she lays next to him all she thinks about is her third and fourth chin showing when her head goes back. When he kisses her, she wonders if he can feel the excess fat on her face in his hand. When he’s behind her, all she can think about is the view he has of the bulging cellulite on her legs. Does he feel the rolls on her stomach when he hugs her? Is he disgusted when he wants to be with her psychically? She drowns in her fears that her appearance will drive him away. He makes her feel beautiful everyday. Even though she doesn’t believe it, she wants to.
She is so happy but her mind is fighting it. When she lays next to him all she thinks about is her third and fourth chin showing when her head goes back. When he kisses her, she wonders if he can feel the excess fat on her face in his hand. When he’s behind her, all she can think about is the view he has of the bulging cellulite on her legs. Does he feel the rolls on her stomach when he hugs her? Is he disgusted when he wants to be with her psychically? She drowns in her fears that her appearance will drive him away. He makes her feel beautiful everyday. Even though she doesn’t believe it, she wants to.
She has always tried to look the way she felt people wanted her to. She sees social media, she knows what she is supposed to look like. She has to fight and dig down deep to the happy little girl. She is grown now. She works with young kids now in an elementary school. Her special education kids admire her, all parts of her. Her students come to her with notes of how they love her, they tell her she’s beautiful. They tell other teachers how they love her for her personality. They ask her questions about her life and want to know how she became who she is. She looks at all of these beautiful young girls, different backgrounds and different bodies and she hopes that they can understand that they are all beautiful and always loved. She fears for those kids, the skinny boys whose glasses hang off the tip of his nose and the girls who can’t afford to get their hair cut. She feels driven to do something. She plans on creating an organization to promote positive body image in young kids because she knows the pain that you may not be able to come home. She has dreams for the children of the world in this scary social media society. She has a plan, she just needs to get there.
She’s in her heart, encouraging her to work for herself every day. She knows who she is. She is an amazing teacher, she is a strong woman, she is loved, she is a hard worker, she has goals and she is courageous. Holding onto that little girl is holding her back, now she has to look forward to the woman she will become. The image of who she is supposed to be is gone and she now sees the image of who she is.
