Wasted Youth

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She thought mostly of sunshine and Barbie dolls. Seven years old, playing in her front yard on a bright August afternoon. Her blonde, curly hair was bouncing as she ran around laughing, chasing after bubbles. She had no worries in the world. She was carefree and did not give any attention to what anyone thought of her Cinderella dress-up costume that she wore every day. Her best friend in the whole wide world was her mom, the smartest, prettiest person she had ever met. After leaping towards sun-kissed suds, she went inside to take a bubble bath. She giggled to herself as she made a beard out of soap and sunk down in the tub and let the warm water wash the bubbles off her face. The water engulfed her skull and she laid there at the bottom of the tub for what seemed like hours, never breathless. The girl emerged to the surface. She mostly thought of caffeine and looking like that girl in the magazine who was wearing that dress that literally no one else in the universe could pull off. Her hair was a dark shade of brown. Her lips stained red and her smeared eye makeup dripped down her face resembling tears. Seventeen years old and being smothered in stress and tests. She now cared what everyone thought of her which resulted in low self-esteem. The bubble coated tub was now foggy. Tiny golden sparkles floated gently around her face as a quiet reminder of her fairytale days. She sat in the luke-warm water and tried to scrub all of the imperfections off of her skin. Ripping the split ends, tugging at her stomach, shoving her teeth around in her mouth in attempt to straighten them, pinching her thighs, scratching at her nose. The list goes on and on and on. The pressure to be perfect is building and building until she explodes. The thoughts of crooked teeth, frizzy hair and not-so-flat stomach fly out. She sinks down in the tub and screams to let some of the pain go. The girl emerges to the top. She now thinks mostly of cooking dinner and picking the kids up from soccer practice. Thirty-five years of and finally feeling calm. Her short, black hair falls delicately at her shoulders. She once again didn’t care what people thought because she had a family and that’s all that mattered. She climbed out of the bath, got dressed and peered out the window to see her blonde, curly haired daughter playing with bubbles. It occurred to her that time really does fly.

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⏰ Last updated: May 15, 2014 ⏰

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