I removed the loose trousers I wore, the large top and flat shoes I was wearing. Most men didn’t like this, that was why I wasn’t wifed yet—At least, that’s what I thought. I quickly removed the clothes I unwillingly bought from the mall, ready to try it on. It was expensive, way out of my budget, but it was worth it.
When I was done dressing, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked good, but if I stepped outside, the amount of side eyes I’ll receive from mothers… Back in where I come from, if any girl wore this, a typical mother will find it her duty to remove her head wrap, to cover this excess flesh.
If I sat down, the dresses could barely cover my crotch. The top of one of the dresses was without sleeves and transparent, It would have been better if it was just the back. I slipped on a pair of stiletto hills and stared at the mirror… I was thought to dress decently and I know we should all find ourselves and come out of indoctrination but, this wasn’t me. If I was to wear such or anything exposing, it would be for one eye only —or maybe two. Mine and his.
Why did I over do this, this wasn’t me. Why was I even taking myself to a meaningless rave ( not saying raves are meaningless), I didn’t like loud places even, it weighed down my head. People to close to me? Above all why am I wearing a stiletto to a rave?!
If it was a man I was looking for, a man to like me? if I didn’t send him scurrying off by acting awkward, or being boring, how was I sure any of those guys would even approach?
The truth is I was too obsessed with a man wanting me, to be wanted. I was so obsessed, I could reduce my standards — be at his beck and call — if there was ‘him‘.
I walked to the dresser and removed every makeup. I wasn’t feeling fancy, it was unusual.
To a tear drop, no self love.