"I don't care what you say! No guy is gonna like me!" I told my best friend, Tara, on the phone.
"What are you talking about? Every guy you've liked has liked you!" Tara said.
"No they haven't!" I said.
"Yes, they have!" she told me defiantly.
"Lindsey!" my oma called from the kitchen. She's German.
"Coming!" I called to her. "Tara, I", I started.
"Yeah, I heard. I'll talk to you later or something," she said clicking the phone off.
"Yeah, or something…" I mumbled to no one.
"Lindsey!!!" my oma yelled again.
"Coming!" I shouted more fiercely, running down the steps of my upstairs home. My house was pretty cool. It was three floors including the basement. I bedroom is upstairs in the biggest bedroom. We have about four bedrooms, four bathrooms and other junky rooms. So…yeah, my house is cool. We don't have any pets besides fish; because everyone in my family, besides myself, was allergic to living creatures…I'm serious. That was always a bummer. I don't have any siblings…that I know of. My father is unheard of. My mother lives across the country, and visits occasionally. I love her so much. She's like my best friend…with several annoying traits. I've lived with my grandparents ever since 7th grade. It was nice. It felt homey. I didn't move to a different school/church every few months like I had with my mom, which was nice. But all of my friends had gone to different schools at the beginning of high school, even Tara. My friends at my current school were awesome, no doubt about it. But they weren't close. My one close friend at my school was Kristen, and we were complete opposites. Yet, I felt like I could tell her anything…but we still were constantly fighting. There was always tension…all the time…it was horrible, but I was living…and that was enough…for now.
"Okay, here's the salad and the meat and…" my oma went on and on about all the healthy stuff we had for supper. There was always salad…always. No matter how much I prayed and hoped for something junky…there was nothing. Ever since I had decided to lose some weight a few years back…she had been on me about what I ate and how much I exercised. Oy! And I had to be in at least one sport a year, even though I loved being in the plays much, much better. Jee.
"Alright. Thanks for making dinner," I said, hugging her. If I wasn't appreciative, I'd get it later on. Besides…I loved hugging. It was like a hobby or something, and it comforted me a lot. I practically hugged my grandpa every five minutes, and as irritated as he looks…I know he really does love it. She just smiled, and walked off to work on something from church. She was always doing something at church. Not that that is bad…cause it's not at all. But…I don't know…she just seemed to be always occupied.
After supper, I headed back upstairs to finish my homework, and hopefully get on the phone again. First, I headed into the bathroom to look at myself. I was definitely satisfied with how I looked. My curly/wavy brown hair seemed to dance upon my shoulders. My clear blue eyes beamed with such radiance, and my gentle figure seemed just perfect. I was adorable! Why did I always seem to be searching for something wrong with me? I was always complaining about my height. I was 5'7"! There is nothing bad about that. Yeah, I was like 185 pounds, but I didn't look it at all. People always commented on me losing weight, and how cute and beautiful I was. I didn't get it! Why was I like this? I wasn't starving myself, or exercising without eating either! And I wasn't irritated by this all the time. In fact, most of the time…I was totally okay with how I looked. But I wanted to get rid of the worry permanently. No guy chases after me. Is this why? I was 16…and seemingly happy. This was just another complete worry. It didn't consume me. I just thought about it, when I had too much time on my hands.
"Oy!" I said, brushing my hair out of my face, and glancing at a special note from my friend, Karla, at school.
You are so loved!
There had been a time when this "issue" had consumed me, and I felt completely unloved by anyone. But that time was gone. I was secure of myself now, and I was happy. I guess some of these horrible memories still got to me from time to time. I tried so hard to get a personal relationship with God. I read my Bible. I prayed constantly. I was definitely a Christian, and not just cause I did those things, but because I had accepted Jesus into my heart, sincerely and seriously, a long time ago and had kept to it. He loved me after all, but why was I having such a hard time? Is he testing me?
"Oh! I don't want to think about this!" I said, slightly above normal voice.
"Is everything alright?" Oma asked from the living room.
"Yes! I'm just stressing over a test, that's all!" I shouted back.
"Do you want me to help?" she asked, lovingly.
"No! I'll be fine! Thanks, though," I said.
"Alright," Oma muttered.
I turned off the light in the bathroom, brushed my "self-image" worries away, and went into my room to continue my studies and forget about these stupid doubts. I was important and had self-worth after all….why should I be worried?
A/N: Hey, I know it's not fabulous. But work with me…it's my first chapter after all! It'll get more interesting…and there'll be more dialogue…too. Just please review! And make at least something positive. So, I'll have the will to keep going! Lol.