My relationship with makeup did not begin at my mother's mirrors, as it does for many girls. In fact, it was my cousin who introduced me to this colorful and fascinating universe. She always had a sparkle in her eyes when she did my makeup, and I, still a child, thought it was all a fun game. But gradually, I began to understand that there was something more to that ritual.
I remember how she would call me to sit in front of the mirror and, with patience, apply eyeshadow to my eyes and lipstick to my lips. She always let me choose the colors, and I would opt for the brightest ones—a hot pink or a shimmering blue. Sometimes, she would laugh at the result, saying I looked like a doll, but for me, that experience went beyond aesthetics. It was a moment of connection, where I could be another version of myself for a few minutes.
My cousin not only applied the makeup; she also explained what she was doing. She said that blush was meant to give a “healthy glow” and that mascara made my lashes look like those of movie stars. Although I didn’t fully understand all those explanations when I was little, I began to internalize the idea that makeup could be a tool for transformation.
It was through her that I started to see makeup as a moment of care and self-love. When she did my makeup, it felt as if she were telling me I could be whoever I wanted, regardless of the circumstances. With each color applied to my face, I felt I was building a character, someone who, no matter how simple the change, carried a new confidence and sparkle.
Later, when I entered my teenage years and began to deal with the inevitable issues of self-esteem and insecurity, I realized how much those moments with my cousin had planted an important seed within me. Makeup, which at first seemed like a simple game, became a refuge. Whenever I felt disconnected from myself, I would grab a palette of eyeshadows or a lipstick and start putting on makeup, just like she did with me. In those moments, it felt like I was regaining control, at least over the image I saw in the mirror.
Unlike others who saw makeup only as vanity, for me, it was a form of personal expression—something I carried with affection. When I sat in front of the mirror, I wasn’t just “getting ready.” I was reconnecting with the confidence my cousin taught me to have, even when I was just a curious little girl, dazzled by brushes and colors.
Today, makeup remains an important part of my routine. I don’t see it as something essential, but as a choice. It reminds me of my strength, the power of transformation, and the connection I created with the girl I once was, being made up by the cousin who showed me that every brushstroke has the power to reveal a new part of ourselves.
For me, makeup is not about hiding who I am, but about revealing different facets. And whenever I choose a lipstick or eyeshadow, I remember my cousin, the light in her eyes, and how she showed me that sometimes what truly matters is not what others see, but how we feel when we look in the mirror.
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Wings of Overcoming: My Truth
Non-FictionI was born with spina bifida, a diagnosis received while still in my mother's womb. From the very beginning, my life has been marked by challenges and triumphs. This book is an intimate and powerful account of my journey, an exploration of the exper...
