Am I Perfect?

• Amelie Trinh, Grade 8, Hurlstone Agricultural High School -
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Horizon of Dreams 2018' competition

We all have that perfect friend in our life no matter what. No, it’s not me. It’s my best friend, Valentina. She’s smart. She’s fit and beautiful. She’s talented. She’s perfect. Me? I’m the complete opposite. I’m stupid. I’m obese and hideous. I’m far from talented. Being perfect is just another one of my fantasies. Valentina was the only friend I could turn to, when I was down or upset. For her, it’s different. I’m just another person on Valentina’s long list of friends. I decided to make an online friend. I wanted to have a fresh start with someone new. Someone other than Valentina. That person was Elizabeth.
I was getting ready to meet Elizabeth for the first time. I felt mixed emotions. Then suddenly negative thoughts flooded my mind. What if she didn’t like me? What if she immediately judged all my flaws? Then my thoughts stopped.
“Hello? Earth to Aria? Are you there?” asked Valentina, waving her hand in front of my face. “Were you even listening?” questioned Valentina.
“Ummm. Ugh. I just have so much on my mind. I am so nervous. What if she thinks I’m ugly?” I ranted.
Valentina responded calmly, “Aria stop worrying. Have you decided what you’re going to wear tomorrow?”
I thought for a second and sharply responded, “Probably a garbage bag because I have put on so much weight -”
“Shut up. Shut up. You’re beautiful!” Valentina snapped, interrupting me.
I just rolled my eyes.
Finally it was time to get ready. I pulled on a corset around my waist, forcing my hips to look thinner. I piled onto my face layers and layers of makeup trying to hide all my imperfections. I over-lined my lips making them look bigger. I glued fake eyelashes to my eyelids and placed extensions in my hair. I drenched my hair in products, doing all things professionals did to make my hair perfect. I brushed out the tangles that had been there for who knew how long. I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed. What have I done? Too far? For the first time in my life, I looked good, but it just didn’t feel right. I looked… fake. I felt fake. I removed the blanket of makeup covering my face. I ripped out the extensions out of my hair and ended up just wearing contacts. Yet, Elizabeth still found me to be pretty.
Sometimes we have to remind ourselves, it’s ok not to be perfect. How do you measure perfection anyway? Is it based on our weight or height? The size of our lips or how small our waists could be? You should know, you’re beautiful just the way you are. I think perfection is a myth and that we shouldn’t have to live up to what people feed us, because we’re all perfect in our own ways.