Daily Prompt 10/25/16 | Transformation

[In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt | Transformation]

Makeup was never something that I was particularly passionate about. Continue reading Daily Prompt 10/25/16 | Transformation


Daily Prompt 6/18/2016 | Perfection

[In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt 6/18/2016 | Perfection]

No one is perfect. No one. Of course, no matter how often we tell ourselves this, it can be difficult to convince our brains that it is true when we pass by magazines in the stores and see women with flawless skin, shiny hair, zero cellulite, tight stomachs, perky butts… you get the idea. I’m guilty of tearing myself down every time I go out in public, and see pictures and videos of these perfect, beautiful women, that I could never look like. Well, the truth is, no one can look like them, not even themselves.

Photoshop, endless filter options, and apps like Facetune make it all too easy to alter pictures, whether you are just trying to erase a few pimples, or giving yourself thousands of dollars worth of digital plastic surgery, and it is just not fair. It is not fair to the men and women whose appearances have to be altered so much, just to be considered beautiful, and worthy of publication, when they were already beautiful. It is also not fair to the men and women who see these ads, and get tricked into thinking that that type of beauty is attainable, and that they need to spend their money to try and reach it.

You don’t believe me? Here are just a few examples:

It is all a lie. Models, singers, actors and actresses, reality TV stars… no one is ever thin enough, but if you are thin, you’re not curvy enough. Your skin is never clear enough. Your hair is never blonde enough. Your eyes are not blue enough. It isn’t fair, and it isn’t right. Men and women, young and old, are being told that nothing about themselves is good enough, and that they need to buy all of this STUFF to look good, but it is an impossible feat. Even these people, who were deemed worthy enough to grace the covers of magazines, and star in commercials, were not perfect enough. No one is perfect enough. No one.

I know I might be beating a dead horse here, and being a total hypocrite, but really, we need to stop focusing so much on how we look. Your eyebrows do not need to be on fleek, your winged liner does not need to survive a nuclear holocaust, and if you don’t have a thigh gap, then embrace your glorious thighs. If you’re 14, you’re told that you need to look 21, and if you’re 30, you’re told you need to look 22. It isn’t fair, and it just isn’t possible. You don’t need big boobs, you don’t need a huge ass, and you don’t need washboard abs. That’s not to say that there is anything wrong with wanting to better yourself, or lift your self-esteem a bit, but do it for you, and not because you think it is how others want you too look. You are worth more than that. Love who you are, and others will love you as well.

Remember, perfection isn’t perfect, it is fake.

Thanks for reading, friends.


Dream Journal 2/4/16

Present day.

I went to the salon with Kyle’s mom to get my hair done. The women at the salon all knew her, and were super friendly to her, but completely ignored me. She decided that she wanted to go tanning first, and went into the back with one of the girls, leaving me alone.

One of the stylists cat me in the chair and asked me what I wanted. I was just getting a trim, but decided that I wanted to dye my hair, which is normally medium brown, to a dark auburn color. The woman told me that she was going to have to bleach my hair, and I told her that I had dyed me hair hundreds of times, and had done this color before, and my hair definitely didn’t need to be bleached. She scowled at me and proceeded to mix the dye for my hair. She put it on quickly, and put a plastic cap over my head. Several minutes later, she took the cap off and my hair was WHITE. I screamed, and yelled at her for bleaching my hair. She just laughed. I demanded that she fix it, or I would call the police and file assault charges on her (I guess that’s a thing?). She scoffed, but agreed.

I repeated to her the color that I wanted, and se told me that would be impossible, since my hair was now bleached. She put the dye on anyway, and covered it with a cap. When she removed it, the top half of my hair was BRIGHT purple, and then changed very abruptly to white on the bottom half. All of the girls working in the salon laughed at me, and I stormed out. I waited in front of the building to hours, until Kyle’s mom came out. She took one look at me, and laughed. I started crying, and told her that I wanted to walk home. And she just left.

My phone rang, and it was the police station, saying that the woman who did my hair was claiming that I threatened to kill her, which was not true. They asked my location, and I hung up the phone. I started running down the highway, but I could see a roadblock of police cars in the distance. I ran into the ditch, and hid in the woods that lined the highway. I watched the police, who were later joined by all the girls from the salon, until the sun started to set. Then, I turned and started walking deeper into the woods.

I remember being in a large clearing, littered with tree roots…

And then I woke up.