It all started when I was four and it came with boys holding buttercups beneath girl's chins and chasing in endless circles and my skirt was a little too long and my face was a little too round to chase them too
I started sitting indoors and painting scenes 'cause I couldn't run like the other girls could but four year old boys don't like brushes and blue skies they like little girls with flushed rosy cheeks
And when I was six I couldn't sit inside anymore it was time to go out and face the boys that called me fat and try to be a rosy cheeked little girl too but I just got flustered when I heard the laughter
But at least kids are honest and I knew I was not wanted
By the time I reached nine I kept my eyes glued to the ground when I stood with my mother and listened to my grandfather drop poison into her ears and told her that her daughter was a monster and that's why I didn't cry at his funeral
But at least he was honest and I knew I was not wanted
Things changed when I turned eleven self-loathing stayed the same but the new boys were all skinny compared to me and they did not hesitate to point it out although quietly and subtly more awash with gasps from choking back revolting laughter that got caught in the back of my throat and turned to tears I never did cry in public
And the way I walked through the halls was a carefully crafted way to make myself smaller but they still plucked me out and told me 'You're so pretty' (laced with sarcasm) 'Be my girlfriend' (prolonged by a smirk) I always kept my mouth shut
And at least kids are honest at least I always knew I was not wanted
By age fifteen I was so obsessed with mirrors that I carried one in my hand at all times I'd tried every makeup technique I could find and my mother was sad that my blonde curls were gone now straight and brown to fade into the background I never knew why this attracted boys but for once I was glad I looked like everybody else
I was hearing 'you're so pretty' with a genuine tone from boys who flirted for fun but I didn't understand and I thought I was special and I thought I would marry every one who called me pretty and we'd have three children and a dog
What I didn't understand was why every night ended with tears because I was finally feeling the way all the rosy-cheeked girls did but maybe it was because kids are honest I preferred to know when I wasn't really wanted
When I was 16 I felt like a woman because I'd had a history with boys who were ******* and this is how I thought womanhood should be every night I rubbed three years of makeup from my face and removed my push-up bra and said goodnight to the boy that made my heart skip and woke up the next morning knowing I would be ignored
I wished people would just be honest
At seventeen, I fell in love with a man who called me his little girl and made me feel like the rosy cheeked child I always watched and envied I fell in love with the way he threatened to leave me when I forgot something and the way he slapped me and I fell in love with how he taught me that it was okay for me to be ***** in every sense of the word because I was the tiny little girl with the skirt just short enough and the cheeks just red enough to be wanted