Mouse

It was 1992. I was 13 years old. Really skinny, with long brown hair
and a fringe that somehow always got into my eyes. I had knobby knees.
And my nickname was Mouse. That's what everyone called me. Small Brown
Mouse. Insignificant Little Girl.

But I guess that being called Mouse was better than being completely
ignored.

When I turned 13, I was sure someone would notice me. Someone would see
the beauty inside. That I would be magically transformed from the Ugly
Duckling to the Beautiful Swan. From Cinderella to a princess. That I
would live out my very own fairy tale. Cause that was what being a
teenager was all about. At least that's what I thought.

Instead. I got pimples. I got my period. And I still got called Mouse.
Even my best friend called me that. But she was tall. Beautiful. She
had pouty lips. A gorgeous smile. All the boys wanted to be with her.
And I wanted to be her. I was jealous of everything she was. Everything
she had. I wanted her life for my own. So I just hid behind my scraggly
fringe and pretended to be happy with my life. I told myself at least
she was friends with me.

At 13, I was very good at pretending. Like when I'd be walking down the
school hallway, and someone would shout out, "Hey Mouse! Why aren't you
hiding in your hole in the wall?" And I would pretend I didn't hear
anything. I'd keep walking, eyes focused on the pavement, and I'd
refuse to look up. Once, right before I graduated from high school,
years after the name "Mouse" had been forgotten by everyone at school,
one of my friends, Eric, told me something I'll never forget. I trust
Eric. And I know he'd never lie to me. He said to me, "The first time I
saw you, you were walking down the hallway to one of your classes, and
you refused to look up. You always walked looking at the ground. And I
thought to myself, why doesn't she look up? Why doesn't she show the
world how beautiful she really is?" At 18, I still wasn't beautiful. I
didn't think I was. But it was nice of him to say so. Eric made me feel
a lot better about myself.

Now I'm 23. It's been 8 years since I've been called Mouse. And I think
I've grown up pretty well. I've grown out my fringe. Part of me even
thinks that I have grown into that swan that I always wanted to be. And
I rarely walk with my face to the ground. Cause when I do, I hear
Eric's voice telling me I'm beautiful. And I look up, stare the world
straight in the face, and tell them "Eric would never lie to me."