I smiled into the mirror, and an unconvincing hint of happiness appeared on my face. It looked like a mask was forced onto my face, one I was unwilling to wear.
The rings around my eyes added to that unconvincing effect. I’d stayed up all night watching the lights from passing cars as they filtered through the drawn blinds of my window. All the while I wondered what it was that was keeping me up, but couldn’t quite rake up the energy to embark on a full thought process. So there I’d lain, in a daze, staring at the occasional flash of mellow light in the darkness- it had been a conscious dream.
My spirits were as high as my ankles as I allowed that forced smile to fade away, and I knew they would only sink lower. For some reason, my confidence and self-esteem were directly connected to what my face looked like. Maybe my face was a window to my soul, maybe I was a vain little princess who cared too much about her looks. I don’t know.
I carefully dragged open my makeup bag, and started on my ringed eyes, concealing the shadows, and outlining them with black. I watched them become more defined, more distinct. I stopped only for a second before I started on the eye-shadow, and finally the mascara. Then I focused on the rest of my face. Five minutes later, I didn’t have to force a smile onto my face, it came of its own accord. The girl in the mirror looked far more ready for the world, she didn’t look like she’d stayed up all night haunted by questions of which she didn’t even know the nature, let alone the answers; she looked like she didn’t have to answer anyone. She looked like nobody could bring her down.
Maybe it was silly that I put so much into my appearance; I knew that there was more to it than that, but I couldn’t help it. When I looked good, I felt good. It just happened that way.
I rushed down the stairs, and into the street, knowing but disregarding the racket my shoes were making on the concrete. All of a sudden the two hours I’d set aside for getting to work had become 10 minutes..
“Hey Cinderella…”
It was unfamiliar, deep voice with a confident tone to it. I didn’t know who it was, but I knew what he would look like- another arrogant sexist with a lop-sided, leering smile, and a twinkle in his eye- as if he were complimenting me.
“Why don’t you come over here princess? I’m loving those red lips..”
I felt my confidence drop down to my knees, and I felt naked. I tried not to let the tears fall as a cabbie finally stopped for me, but the moment I was in, the beautiful makeup I’d put on that morning was drowned.
I felt guilty. Had my looks been provocative? No respectable girl would have fallen victim to so petty a form a harassment; the man probably thought I was a whore, that I wouldn’t mind at all. Is that what I looked like? Attention-seeking, and indecent?
I thought of my clanking heels, and the good hour I’d spent on my appearance, and I vowed to never do that again. I vowed to be never provoke such an act again. Surely, this was all my fault.
…
I lay awake, again. This time I didn’t even try to think, I just cried. I wept for what I never had been, and I wept for the girl I’d glimpsed in the mirror yesterday – the one who wouldn’t doubt or question herself; the one who was confident.
When morning came, I knew what I had to do. I wiped my swollen red eyes and trembling lips, and laughed at what the world had to do to me to make me understand that I could do whatever I wanted with myself, and nobody could ever question me.
I reapplied my makeup, and smiled again. I’d painted my lips an even brighter red than yesterday.
I liked wearing makeup, and if people thought I was vain. Let them.
I heard another catcall when I walked out that day, but I didn’t care. I watched him with emotionless eyes, and realized that all these years I’d always thought that bad things happened to me because I was incompetent, because I was the stupid one. I didn’t realize that bad things happened because they happened to everyone.
“Shut up,” I said accusingly, and all the years I’d spent running, came out in those two words.
He did what he was told.
(Image source: Creative Commons Publish Domain)
