I rang the doorbell frantically until Thembi opened the door.
“I’m ready! I can do this!” I pushed past her and rushed straight up to her room, where I took up a position in the middle of the floor. I filled the entire space with my newfound confidence, until it grew so big that it pressed into the walls around me.
I was careful not to let go of it, though—I knew it might waver. This feeling might be short-lived and soon slip through my fingers like grains of sand. But while I had a firm grasp on it, I was going to use it. Wield it like the powerful weapon it was.
Thembi put her hands on her hips and smiled at me. “I never doubted it for a second.” And then, we started.
An hour later I stood face-to-face once more with another mirror, although this time, it was draped in a white sheet. My hair and makeup had been done, and I was in the dress.
“Wait, here. I bought you something I thought would go with the dress.” She rushed off and returned with a box. “Your size, right?”
I stared down at the box she’d just placed in my hands. “Did you buy these for me?”
“It’s my way of saying thanks for letting me do this, I really needed it.”
“These are . . . they’re, wow, gorgeous. But I’ve never worn high heels.”
“You’ve what?” The shock on her face was comical.
I laughed. “You sound just like my friends.”
“Well, they’re right! How the hell have you never worn high heels?”
I shrugged. “You know . . .”
“Cos big gals can’t wear high heels. Because Ashley Graham is walking around in flats all day. And what about Tess Holliday? Shuffling about in slippers?”
“Well, they’re, like, you know. Fashionable, stylish, gorgeous,” I said.
“Excuse me . . .” she whipped the cloth off the mirror, “and you’re not?”
“Oh my God!” I did a double take. I only thought those happened in cartoons, but they didn’t. My head snapped back and forth as I stared at a version of myself that I’d never seen before. This was a Cinderella moment right here, and I knew how clichéd it was on some level, but I didn’t care. Right now, I was going to revel in it. Soak it all in like a sponge. “I can’t believe it’s me.”
“Don’t cry! You’ll ruin your makeup.” Thembi fanned my eyes as they started tearing up.
“Thank you,” I said.
“For what?”
“For making me look like this.”
“I didn’t make you anything. It was always there, the genius designer in me just knew how to bring it out.”
I turned and smiled at her. She smiled back at me, and suddenly I felt like I could tell her.
“I was actually trying on that dress in the shop for the dance,” I confessed.
“Why did you say it was your dad’s wedding?”
“I don’t know. I guess I felt like you would think who the hell is going to ask her to the summer dance? I thought you’d laugh or something. Tell the others at school.”
“I’d never do that. Besides, I know what it’s like,” she said.
“What what’s like?”
“Being bullied.”
“How?”
“When I was younger, people used to tease me because I was adopted. This one kid at school told me my parents didn’t really love me.”
“What a prick!”
She shrugged. “I kicked his sandcastle down in the sandpit. I got even. So are you . . . ?”
“Am I what?”
“Going to the dance?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m not.”
“Why don’t you come with me?” she asked in her usual matter-of-fact tone.
“Aren’t you going with your boyfriend?”
“Nah. I dumped him. He’s been cheating.”
“Seriously? What a dick.”
“I know! Total asshole, but I made myself a killer dress and I look amazing in it, so I have to go.” She smiled at me.
“I don’t know,” I replied.
“Stop saying you don’t know. We’ll go together and everyone will stare at us as we walk in. There will be whispers and gossip because everyone will wonder if we’re an item, and everyone will be talking about it until the end of the year. At least we’ll give them something interesting to talk about, instead of all their usual crap! And we’ll look so gorgeous that everyone will be jealous and then everyone will want original Thembikiles and I’ll say, ‘Wait in line.’”
I looked at myself in the mirror, and nodded. “Okay.”
“Great, let’s do this photo shoot!” Thembi turned and headed for the door.
“Give me a moment. There’s something I need to do.”
She gave me a little look, as if she understood what I meant and exited the room. I bent down, kicked my shoes off, and then slowly, carefully, resting one hand on the edge of her desk, climbed into the high heels. I wobbled a few times, flapped my arms to stop myself from falling, but when I finally felt steadier, I turned back to the mirror.
I looked at the shoes on my feet first, followed their curves all the way to my ankles, traced the lines of my legs, up to the slit in the dress—I’d never worn anything that showed this much leg—I dragged my eyes higher, over the plush fabric, observing how it clung to my body like a second skin, how it clung to my hips and then tapered into my waist. The beads glinted at me, accentuating my breasts, which looked—wow! I had the best breasts I’d ever seen!
My eyes trailed from my breasts to my neck and then my face. I inhaled sharply. I had cheekbones and long lashes and powder that made me shimmer. Red lips, big and voluptuous and so kissable, if I did say so myself. My hair was up. Messy, red, curly tendrils falling down casually. As if I had put no effort into this look. As if I looked this good when I woke up.
This was really me.
Me.
I pulled my phone out and slowly, nervously took a picture of myself.
With shaking hands, I went to Instagram and chose a filter. This time I wouldn’t use black and white. This time it would be in full color. Because I was color. I was every single shade of an artist’s palette. And for the first time in my life, I wanted the world to see me like this. I took a deep breath and was just about to post the picture when I stopped. I lowered my fingers to the keyboard and typed #bodypositive.
Things I Like about Myself by Lori Palmer
I’m a good sister.
I’m a real artist (despite what Blackwell says!).
I, Lori Palmer, am officially good with parents!
I have a voice. There is power in my art.
I am brave!
I am a great kisser!
I’m a good friend (even if I don’t really want to be just a friend).
My voice can start a movement!
My body is a work of art!
I have great boobs. I mean . . . AHMAZING!
I am hot!