Lip Gloss Bitches

Cell phones. Lip gloss. Every sentence begins with, '....and, like, ....' I expected it. A birthday party for my almost 12 year old. I can't expect polite conversation from 12 year olds, right? Uh, why not?

Tonight, I encountered my own past, the part of being a 12 year old I hated: the bitchy girls who have a heart of cold, hard steel. The girls that will grow up to be intolerant, ignorant bitches. Yeah, bitches. The kind of women that flip people off in traffic, and will dump their friends for a roll in the hay with some dork. These girls are like sharks, always moving, never stopping, always looking for something that they want.

I watch my daughter and see myself. I see her bowing to this behavior, over and over again. I see her trying hard to please these little creeps. I see it and it disgusts me enough I have to lie down and chill for a bit. Of this bouquet of girls, only one is worth keeping. And, she is the youngest and the kindest amongst them, and the most mature. She says 'thanks, Rose'. Or, 'excuse me, Rose' and not in an Eddy Haskell kind of way. She's a good kid, with a good heart. And, I am thankful for that. I cannot imagine this little girl trying, going out of her way, to do something shitty to another person.


It's the whispers behind others' back, the rolling of eyes, the snickers that just enrage me. I have two choices: bust their ass in front of my daughter, which would really ruin her birthday party and make things even worse for her, or, feverishly clean and retreat to my room. One dirty bathroom and kitchen later, I am here with this computer.

I remember these girls from my 12th year. The girls that lived life effortlessly, and had perfect hair and lips that glistened from being coated in gloss... the girls that laughed and others laughed with them, and talked to teachers like they were friends, and seemed to penetrate every facet of life with ease. Then there was me, a smile full of crooked teeth, gawky, ignorant of fashion because I shared my clothes with my sisters and mom and eager to blend in. Eager to blend in.... eager to blend in...... what a price one pays for that.

And, today, I am proud to say, I don't blend in. Anywhere. I am who I am. I am a strong woman who has lived an interesting and sometimes tragic, life. And, I'm not done. I've gotta long way to go. I so hope that my daughter finds that living a life that belongs to her and is unscripted, is a better life to live. I hope that she finds that she will find her own voice and will like what the hears.

I am grateful for this friend,the mother of the little girl. She knew I needed her strength tonight, without me saying, "I need you!" Tackling the birthday party, alone, without Gordon, is tough. Sam was off with friends. But, the birthday part had to be done. And, thank god she was there. A good heart, that is what that is.

I find myself dropping my guard with her and letting her in. I find that we connect in a way I don't find with others. And, I am so thankful. I imagined tonight, if we had been 12 year old girls together that we would have sought each other out and made fun of the rest of the girls.

I am so glad, though, that my daughter doesn't mimic them completely. She doesn't roll her eyes to other adults, or be downright disrespectful. She stops just shy of that. But, she won't see it from me.

This was the last birthday 'party' with party favors, etc. This was it. It's over. No more cakes that are decorated in a particular way. I know it all changes next year, because it's a different deal. I never had a birthday party with friends, my entire childhood. My 'friends' were my sisters and brother. I never had a birthday party with favors and treats and bowling. And, that is one of the many things I did not want to emulate from my childhood.

But, I stopped just shy of ordering a cake. I got what was there, had it personalized. I took to down a notch. I have less to hide now, I guess. I remember doing all that I could to hide Our Truth. I didn't want people to know all of the stress involved with any public appearance. I didin't want people to know that Gordon would have to lie down, for hours and hours before anything public. And, that after any event, he would retreat again, for hours and hours. Every encounter with others was seen as a herculean task. But, I did all that I could to cover that up, to make it look, 'effortless'.

I pray for the day she sees things for what they are, and sees that as the better choice.