Maybe it’s a sexy set of pumps that take you from the girl next door to hell on heels. Or it might just be that lacy boutique bra that brings you that quiet confidence and a show-stopping strut.
Maybe it’s even that pair of skinny jeans which feel like a second skin and keep you tapping your favorite defiant tune from a band your parents wouldn’t approve of.
We all have something that makes us feel like the textbook definition of awesome. It spurs a selfish thought that maybe someone saw you today is plotting out his or her outfit tomorrow to look like you.
For me, that thing is hair.
When my grades start to slump, when I stop caring about my room, and when I honestly stop caring so much that I actually wear yoga pants paired with an old hoodie to school, I know I have to change my hair.
It’s quite impressive what a fresh coat of dye can do. When I look in the mirror, I don’t see the lackluster and indifferent me that was there with the old color folding over her forehead. My eyes shine a little brighter knowing that a flood of compliments will grace my ears the next day.
A fresh cut somehow trims away all my problems. I feel like my stresses are being tossed on the floor along with the split ends. It’s as if all my mellow dramatic teen girl issues were taken care of, that when I get out of the chair and look in the mirror, it won’t be me. And that will be ok, because the girl in the mirror is happy.
I make my way towards the cafeteria, and the feeling that everyone in the hallway is eyeing me washes over me. I hold my head a little higher, and the sides of my lips twist up as I watch the mouths of my friends open and gasp.
I relish in their wonder. I shine.