Self-Transformation

I remember a time when I didn’t care what people thought of me. Sixth grade. I miss the old me. I miss who I was.
I miss the chunky black skate shoes. I miss the baggy clothing. I miss the makeupless face. I miss the hair that I didn’t do anything to. I miss being that huge tomboy. I got called butch a lot, but hey, it’s better to be hated for who you are than loved for who you are not.
A transformation happened in early seventh grade. I remember buying size 16 shirts for school- I drowned in them. I then put those away at some point and I wear size twelve currently and have since. (I have lost no weight.) I started wearing makeup. I bought clothes that fit me. I started wearing Vans that weren’t from the guys’ section.
This isn’t me. The skinny jeans, tight shirts, makeup, straightened hair, “trendy” shoes, these all aren’t me. What happened to make me change so much? I wish I knew.
I remember during the summer after seventh grade looking in the mirror and thinking to myself “I’m so ugly without makeup.” The day before I had been pro-natural beauty. It happened just like that.
I remember buying my first straightener in seventh grade and thinking “Now I’m cool.”
I remember looking at skinny jeans in seventh grade and thinking “Why can’t I wear those?”
I remember getting my first pair of Vulcs and thinking “Just like the kids at school.”
I did all this- in the name of popularity? I changed myself so much I don’t know who I am anymore.
Say goodbye to the new Ali. I don’t like her much.

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