Dear Katharine

September 04, 20xx

September 04, 20xx
9:54 P.M.

Dear Katharine,

                            I've been thinking of other words to begin this entry, and I'm so tired of doing that. So I shall write "Dear Katharine" or "Dear Kath" all the time instead of using variations to address you. I thought it would be cool to improve my vocabulary by doing that, but I don't care anymore. I have more important things to care about.

                            What I care more about now is being pretty. I bought makeup at the department store after school, but I have to hide it from Mama. She doesn't like me wearing them because she believes they will ruin my skin. She also forbids me from dyeing or curling my straight jet black hair because she says it will make it stringy and hard to comb. But most importantly, she believes the chemicals of hair dye and radiation from a curling iron will destroy my precious brain.

                             Mama keeps on saying  “Claire, you're too young for this” on everything my peers have already tried. Part of me thinks she doesn't want me to grow up. But I am growing up, and neither she nor I could stop that.

                             I envy Jenna and Alexa. If you were alive, I would envy you too. Their parents allow them to explore and even buys their makeup for them as birthday presents. That's why they have learned to apply them beautifully in their face, and they look amazing except the nuns don't like seeing cosmetic products on us. They keep on saying we must be modest and accept what God has given us.

                             But Jenna gets with away wearing make-up because she applies them so naturally that you can't even tell but she looks gorgeous. No wonder she's become the talk of the boys since you've been gone. She walks in and you'll stop to stare at her. Although she has a strong square-shaped face, her other features will draw away the attention to her prominent jawline, which makes her features softer, more feminine. I want to look just like her.

                            I bought a light shade of foundation because I think it would cause me to appear whiter. But I have to apply to the rest of my body, so I don't look stupid. Why do we hate dark skin so much? Why do I despise having it? Papa said Westerners would kill for a tanned skin. Why? Why do we want to have things we don't have? I only wish to look good. I don't need to be the best-looking person. In fact, I long for my skin to go unnoticed because that's what everyone points out when they see me. "Oh, umitim ka*!" I should live abroad where they like my skin color. But that's being too dependent on what my surroundings want, not what I want. All I want is to be attractive and confident.

                           Mama just knocked at my door. I have to wash the foundation off my face. I'll write to you my woes tomorrow. Bye for now.

*
Oh, umitim ka - your skin got darker