"Beautiful"
By: DarkHeartsofLove

When we were younger
Our teachers use to ask us
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"A movie star"
"An actress"
"A firefighter"
"A princess"
"A policeman."
Now, I'm a senior,
I'm graduating high school in May
And I know what my occupation will be after high school.
I know what I will be.
I also know what I want to be.
My English teacher asked the class
"What do you want to be after high school?"
We answered in uniform by the rows
Of our seating arrangement.
"An artist"
"A doctor"
"A lawyer"
"A vet"
"A teacher"
The list of occupations went on.
But when it for to me
I had a different answer.
"I want to be beautiful."
I spoke gently,
Almost in a whisper.
The class bursted into laughter.
The teacher looked at me,
Confused.
She said
"I mean what do you want to be?"
"Beautiful,"
I said,
Repeating myself.
She shook her head
And she told me to explain.
"Society has made it
Where people like me,
People who aren't blonde,
Who aren't skinny,
Who don't have the money to buy
These name brand clothes,
Who don't do their hair
And makeup every day
Are ugly.
So when I 'grow up'
I want to be beautiful.
I want to feel beautiful.
I want others to see my beauty.
I want someone
That understand that I will never be skinny;
I will always have love-handles,
I will never bleach my hair,
I'll never do my hair
And my makeup,
And I'll never wear name brand clothes
But that person will love me
And they will call me beautiful
Despite of what society thinks.
I want to be beautiful
When I grow up."
The room fell silent
For just a few seconds
And I knew that no one in the room understood
Because most of them
Are the "perfect" and "beautiful"
Image of humans that society has painted.
"Okay,
Who's next?"
The teacher said,
Brushing off what I just said.
Then the list of occupations continued
As if I had not said anything to begin with.