#Aussomehair Contest

I Won't Let Them Decide

Everyone had a tag. Pretty, beautiful, positive, confident, creative, optimistic, wonderful, grateful, etc.

I didn't. 

I wasn't positive, I wasn't confident, I'm not creative, I'm not optimistic...and I'm certainly in no shape or form am beautiful. 

My name is Leopoldine. My mother was French, my father was German. 

You might ask me, 'At least you can be grateful for a family!' 

No.

I was a lone leaf, latched on to a different branch. 

I was the small amount of love that passed between my parents before they divorced.

I was the destiny that they hadn't opted for....

That's how fate works.

My French mother tried very hard to get rid of me, my father disappeared soon after. When I turned four, I was stuffed into an orphanage. My mother went down the same path as my father. 

I would cry for hours in the lonely bathroom while other orphans ran around like maniacs. I told myself: I had a chance, if I had just been a bit better...she would've wanted me. 

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My first day in grade 3, the other kids gaped at me. They pointed fingers at me, they whispered my name amongst each other, they glared at me, they turned away from me. 

I knew why.

But I didn't say so.

Then the teacher asked me to introduce myself. I slid my chair back, I eased myself up, I felt precisely 23 pairs of curious, disgusted, spiteful eyes turn in my direction. 

And I spoke the words that I've rehersed so many times before this.

"My name is Leopoldine, I'm 8 years old, and I like art." I spoke loudly, clearly....and confidently. What happened wasn't the silence, what happened was laughter.

The entire class laughed until tears sprang to their eyes.

"Leopoldine? Who are you? A French maid?"

"Art? She likes art? Of all the things!"

"Silence!" The teacher yowled, but she was too late. I felt my cheeks heat up, I sat down in my seat, I looked at my shoes.

And that was the day the entire school learned about me.

That was the day I earned my first nickname...Laide.

It might not make sense to you, but I gurantee you it's a word. It's a word in French. So go to google translate if you wish, it'll make much more sense.

Barely a day later, I was forced to stay in class during recess. 

Not because I was in detention for passing notes.

But because inside was safe.

The hallways and playgrounds were battlefields, and if I was not inside, I'd have to reherse running away from the hordes and hordes of kids who pursued me. Screaming my nickname loud enough for the whole world to hear.

That wasn't the worst part.

My teacher had to position me at the back of the class so I wouldn't be bombarded by spitballs. So I wouldn't always have to listen to classmates whisper 'Ugly' into my ear. 

I lost my voice in grade 5.

I was making a stupid speech about endangered animals. I chose the white peacock. 

I was going on about how pretty, and exquisite this bird was when I heard two kids whispering to each other at their desks.

"The peacock is prettier than her!"

"I know right?"

My cheeks flushed bright red, I stared down, blinking back the million drops of tears I could not shed. 

The teacher asked me to continue.

I wouldn't.

Barely three days later, I came to school in the morning to find a note taped to my desk:

BEWARE OF DOG!

Now when I think about it, I realize, grade 5 wasn't the worst. That was just debris from a storm that has yet to come.

The real trouble....was highschool.

I walked the halls with paper balls chucked at my head.

I was left out when they chose teams for all those dum sports they play. Basketball, soccer, etc.

I was the one without a partner during group work.

I was the omega of the pack.

Finally, I graduated.

Finally, I escaped the prison and into hell.

Witness my logic: World = Hell.

Now, when I think about it. 

I was stupid.

Stupid for letting all those kids and people and teenagers make fun of me.

Stupid for losing my voice at a speech about peacocks just because I wasn't prettier than a stupid bird.

I let them decide.

I let them decide whether or not to leave me out during the school picture.

I let them decide whether or not they could call me 'Ugly'.

I let them decide whether or not they could tape 'Beware of dog!' signs to my desk.

I ripped the sign to pieces.

I tell them no matter how pretty someone is, they couldn't be prettier than a peacock because they are human and a peacock is not.

I push my way into the photo line.

I would match their tone when they call me names....

I would tell them 'YOU'RE WRONG!'

I would NOT let them decide.

And all that...all of that happened because I had an extra piece of DNA.

All that happened because I was bald.