I nervously paced in front of the PowerPoint, debating whether or not I should tell my mother how I wanted to change and how I wanted to be me. I could already hear her saying how foolish I would look and how I would be bullied for being different. I had always been reserved; I kept to the rules and never dreamed of leaving my comfort zone. I was terrified of being judged, and worried about what people would think, but I really wanted to be cheerful and loud in everything I could dream of. After a recent trip to Japan, my father brought me a magazine called the, “Gothic Lolita Bible”. The pages were plastered with images of everything I wanted to be, everything I had internalized for years. The magazine leaked with independent women, confident
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My mother, as expected, expressed how frivolous the clothing would make me look, and told me I would be bullied for being different. My father on the other hand, told me to do what made me happy, so long as I could pay for the hobby myself and it would not affect my grades. I was disheartened by the lack of support from my mother, but I persevered and underwent an awakening to the new me. To earn money, I did little chores, worked on neighbor’s cars and babysat their children, until I had enough money to buy supplies in order to sell handmade crafts. Once I had a substantial profit, I saved my money until I could properly buy my first dress. Then finally as a freshman, I bought my first dress, a simple purple gingham dress with shoes and accessories without the help of anyone, but my own hard effort. Crying hard, I opened the package and felt so accomplished, because I knew it was not the dress that made me change, it was my determination and effort that had already changed me into someone I wanted to be. Now, in my senior year of high school, I am someone who can proudly hold their head up, when they walk into the room. I still receive the occasional gawking eye and the odd comment about it not being Halloween, but I am no longer bothered by their opinions, and even
My mother, as expected, expressed how frivolous the clothing would make me look, and told me I would be bullied for being different. My father on the other hand, told me to do what made me happy, so long as I could pay for the hobby myself and it would not affect my grades. I was disheartened by the lack of support from my mother, but I persevered and underwent an awakening to the new me. To earn money, I did little chores, worked on neighbor’s cars and babysat their children, until I had enough money to buy supplies in order to sell handmade crafts. Once I had a substantial profit, I saved my money until I could properly buy my first dress. Then finally as a freshman, I bought my first dress, a simple purple gingham dress with shoes and accessories without the help of anyone, but my own hard effort. Crying hard, I opened the package and felt so accomplished, because I knew it was not the dress that made me change, it was my determination and effort that had already changed me into someone I wanted to be. Now, in my senior year of high school, I am someone who can proudly hold their head up, when they walk into the room. I still receive the occasional gawking eye and the odd comment about it not being Halloween, but I am no longer bothered by their opinions, and even