What Life Must Be Like For A Pretty Girl
All the pretty girls played in their rooms with their dolls, studying their newborn faces in the mirror. They knew even then that life was going to be a bit easier for them.
All the pretty girls went to the same sleepovers and told the same secrets and wore the same make up. They talked about the cute boys in their grade, the boys they knew could be theirs if they wanted them. They were starting to understand what having a beautiful face meant and they were starting to use it in the way society taught them.
All the pretty girls befriended each other and formed a small army of porcelain skin and gold ringlets of hair and good genetics. It was understood that they would be friends because their pretty faces meant they were all going to have the same kind of life. They set themselves apart from the not-so-pretty girls by developing early and spraying perfumes and showing prepubescent skin. A hardness began to develop on the inside to contrast their soft features and that’s when the pretty girls started to become ugly.
All the pretty girls started to kiss boys who would never care about them in their childhood bedroom after school. They fed off the boys’ excitement at seeing naked flesh and learned how to manipulate them. Through kissing and touch, they began to recognize their power and use it whenever someone wanted to unbutton their jeans or get them a gift for Christmas. “My face deserves a purse. My ass deserves designer jeans. You don’t deserve anything”
All the pretty girls realized how hard it would be when they developed breasts and womanly curves. They would have to decide what kind of pretty girl they wanted to be. Did they want to be a mean girl and marry someone rich or did they want to model in Japan? Or did they want to move away from the pretty face and get a good job, only using their looks when they wanted a fancy drink at a bar? So many decisions for a pretty girl to make.
All the pretty girls lost their virginities to pretty boys. They thought about what their children would look like and maybe they even imagined a wedding full of pretty people and rice and tears. They loved these boys but maybe they were also mean to them. Or maybe the boys were the ones who were mean and pushed them down with their kisses. Either way, they laid the foundation of what was to come.
All the pretty girls made excuses. They were late to class because they were beautiful; they snuck out of the house because their hair looked really good that day. Who the hell are you to judge a pretty girl anyway? Take a look around you and see how much our world cherishes external beauty. Now ask yourself something: Are you surprised?
All the pretty girls start out the same but slowly change over time. When everyone is old and gray, they’ll have the faded polaroids of their youth to keep them company. Some will die sad, some will die happy. They’ll all die pretty.
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