I am beautiful…at least according to the world around me. I am tall and slender. I weigh under 100 pounds. I barely eat at all. I have long blonde hair and golden olive eyes. I wear designer clothes. I never walk out of my room without wearing my Chanel earrings and pink, Prada tote. I model after school for all of the right clothing companies. My boss says that I can make it big soon, only if I lose another five pounds. My nails are always done with the perfect French tips and rhinestones.
I am popular at school because of my appearance and I drive my own mustang convertible. But no one every really cares to get to know me. I mean really know me. I am invited to all of the parties, but I think I am only invited to get used. I always feel so ashamed. On the outside I look perfect, but on the inside I feel broken to pieces. I am failing most of my classes because I just don’t have the energy to study or do the work. Besides, I wouldn’t want to be considered a nerd, right? Plus when will I ever have to use Trigonometry in modeling?
My boyfriend loves me when I make him happy, but the second it looks like I have gained even a half a pound or not worn something that he likes, he gets mad at me. The only way I can get him to love me is if I sleep with him. He says we’ll be together forever and that he really loves me. But I am not really sure. And I can’t break up with him because he is the captain of the football team and the best quarterback in the entire state. He is being drafted by all of the right schools. It would be social suicide if I said good-bye. I guess I will just keep trying to make him happy.
My parents just don’t care. My Dad is always at work and my Mom just wants to sit by the pool all day and go shopping. They don’t know me and they don’t want to know me. I am just the “kid” they created.
I see other girls at school–you know, the average-looking ones (according to the world around me) and they just look so happy. They aren’t drop-dead gorgeous and they don’t have designer clothes. They don’t even have boyfriends. But they are happy. Why? How can they have nothing that I have and be so much happier than I am? I hear they go to this youth group in town. It sounds like fun, but I just don’t think I would be accepted there. When they look at me I know they just see a superficial blonde who gets whatver she wants. I wish one of them would talk to me, try to get to know me.
I have heard about that Jesus guy before, but how could he be real? Why would life be like this if there really was a God? Why would the Christians be so mean? Besides, what has this Jesus ever done for me?
Is there anything more to this life? Probably not. This must be my fate. Now I have to go get ready for my date and the party this weekend. My beauty biased life must go on.