Oh, You Should Be So Proud

by, Cassandra

It starts off so innocently, childhood curiosity, as you slip into momma's best high-heeled shoes. (you know, the ones you were just told yesterday that you weren't allowed to touch. but, at that point in your life, yesterday has no bearing on today.) You pull the pretty scarf off the bureau, knocking over those glass (no, no, don't touch) perfume bottles. The finishing touch is the smears of red lipstick all over your face and hands. Oh, momma will be so proud. Now you look just like her.

Years later, and you're all grown up now. This time those heels you slip on are all your own, and you straighten that brand new shirt that's supposed to make you feel pretty. (why doesn't it make you feel beautiful?) Your hands are a little more accustomed to applying that (omg, oh-so) perfect shade of lipstick. You look into the mirror. Oh, they're going to be so proud. Now you look just like them.

(we go through life, trying trying trying to be like everybody else. so why do we always wonder wonder wonder why it's so hard to find ourselves?)

It's starts off so innocently, childhood curiosity, but before you know it you don't know how to go a day without pretending to be someone else. You slip into character, and play your part convincingly. You paint your face to hide the flaws, and become just who everyone thinks you are. You look into the mirror. Oh, you should be so proud. Now you don't even know yourself.