The wedding day was slowly approaching and she was freaking out. It wasn’t even her wedding day. It was the closet person to her, her sisters wedding. Everything was going smoothly until the day came to decide on the maid of honor and bridesmaid dresses. She knew what was in store. Her sister would want her to wear something form fitting, revealing and something not her style. She dreaded going shopping but she knew she had to go. The first store was a total bust. The bridesmaid had found a dress that was perfect for her body because she was a size 2! She could wear any dress in the entire store! Not her though, she was size 20. She had curvy hips and an unforgiving backside.
On to store two they go. Looking around the store there were a ton of beautiful dresses. Some in sizes up to 28. She was finally starting to feel a little more at ease. She liked the selection and the bigger sizes. Out of no where her sister pulls out this ungodly atrocious maroon dress. It was form fitting and had capped sleeves. Her sister was being pushy and convinced her to at least have her try it on. She went to the dressing room and crawled into the dress. Every possible place that could bulge, did. She tried lifting her arms and they would stop midway from being so tight. Then she had her entire arm completely exposed. Her entire burned arm was exposed. How could she tell her sister that she was uncomfortable? How could she let her sister know that the dress was not going to work?
It would have been ok and she would have made it work but then there was the best man. The best man who was constantly flirting with her and would have to walk her down the aisle. He would have to look at her arm. He would have to see the scars. She was mortified. She kept quiet about the dress and left without buying it. Her sister was very persistent and made her go to the wedding shop again. They went and she tried on the dress again and was sick to her stomach. She was not walking down the aisle in this dress. Well, her mom stepped in and made her wear the dress and said that “It wouldn’t be that bad.” She bought the dress, got home and shoved it in the closet. She wanted nothing to do with that horrid dress and wanted to forget all about it.
The wedding day had arrived. The bridesmaid and the sister had went to go get their makeup and nails done and did not invite her. She got dressed at her parents house by herself and did her own hair and makeup. She arrived at the church and tired to sit in the dressing room. The dress was super uncomfortable so she had to stand. The sister’s vail was crooked and she tried to fix it but her arms would not go up higher than midway. The sister started to get upset and yell at her. She explained how the dress was and that it was super uncomfortable. All she heard was “Deal with it” and “It’s your sisters day, don’t ruin it” from her mom.
The time came for her to walk down the aisle. She started to to tear up and wanted to run out of there but she didn’t want to make a scene. She grabbed her flowers and tried to cover her arm as much as possible. The best man had no idea what was going on but did look at her arm and made a weird grossed out look. She was humiliated. She came up with up a brilliant idea that she could just hide her arm by switching sides with the best man. It would solve everything!! She could hide her scars from everybody.
Well, that didn’t work out. As soon as they started to line up she tried to go to the other side and her mom saw what she was trying to do and started yelling at her! She argued that it was fine and not big deal but her mom was not having it. Her mom grabbed her by the arm and told her to stand on the other side. She wanted to burst into tears. Did nobody understand what was going on? Could nobody see how much she wanted to hide herself?
The music started and the best man pulled her down the aisle. She was so embarrassed. Friends and family were just peering at her arm like she was an alien. Eyes bulging out of their heads with snide looks. She kept walking and was finally at the alter. She finally could feel some relief. She was finally able to hide her arm. She stood at the alter with her face as red as the dress. Finally the vows were said and the kiss was made!! It was done. It was over with!
*This was one of the most humiliating times in my life that I want to forget even existed but I seem to remember a lot. It would be the setup for the next five years of my life that would be total hell. This was the day that had started everything.
“Mama, why do I have spots on my body?” That is a question I had always asked my mom. Her response never changed, “They are your beauty marks.” Even though she would tell me this, I never felt beautiful. I wanted to be beautiful. I wanted to fit in. I wanted normal skin. Beautiful flawless skin. Skin without scars, without spots. Why did this happen to me? Why did I get so unlucky? These were questions I had asked myself on a daily basis. I would wake up in the morning, look into the mirror and then look away. Finally after graduating highschool, I decided that I would not let my spots get the best of me. I decided to do some research. I made an appointment with a dermatologist and found out I had Vitiligo. That’s my disease. That’s why I am so different. I now had two options. I could either let this disease get the best of me or I could learn to embrace it. It wasn’t until I had went to a gas station and saw the most beautiful woman covered in spots. Covered in spots and showing them off. Not ashamed. Not embarrassed. I thought to myself, hey she is like me, she is spotted. I felt the need to talk to her. I had to approach her. I needed to hear her story. I had no idea how I was going to approach her but I did. I slowly asked, “Do you have Vitiligo?” I think I startled her. She dropped her coffee all on the ground. I felt so embarrassed. Why did I approach her? Why did I ask her if I already knew the answer? “Oh, you mean my beauty marks?” She replied. My heart skipped a beat and my mouth dropped wide open. I started to tear up and studdered, “bbbeeaauuttyy mmaarrkkss?” “Yes, these are my beauty marks. Only people who are unique and special are blessed with these beauty marks like ours.” I wanted to wrap my arms around this lady and give her the biggest hug possible. I stood there and stared at her. I had so many questions to ask her. She cleaned up her coffee and gave me a huge smile. She seemed like she was in a hurry. I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted to talk to her. She started to walk away. I followed her. She got to the counter to pay for her coffee. She probably thought I was a weirdo for following her but I needed to talk to her. She turned as she was leaving and said “Remember, don’t ever think that you are not beautiful and no matter what anybody says, just know that there’s not that many people out there who can be like us.” It made me feel so special after hearing those kind words. I watched her walk away. I was left speechless and shocked. This woman had spots, more spots than I had but she embraced them. She showed them off. I left that gas station that day feeling better than I have in my whole entire life. That lady changed my life forever.
I am hesitant to write about something that can trigger a million emotions. I had found a note that said “If you have found this I am gone. He did it.” I am taken back to the very minute I wrote this note. My ex had found out that I started a Facebook page. He had become enraged and threatened my life. I had locked my bedroom door and was hiding in my closet. I was breathing heavily, shaking, I couldn’t catch my breath. I was terrified. I knew my life was at risk. I knew he was going to strangle me. He had done it to me several times in the past. He always got what he wanted. He had always gotten his way. I was always forced to conform. I was always forced to mold into his ways. My voice had been taken away. I was his and his alone. He made great money and gave me everything I wanted. We drove new cars had a beautiful house but I was taken away from everything I loved. My family was forgotten about, I lost all of my friends. I was a prisoner in my own home. I remember going to the store and I went to grab his hand to walk with him. He told me no and that I was to walk behind him. If I didn’t listen I knew what was in store. I didn’t want to make a scene. Don’t ever make a scene out in public. You put on a front to make-believe your relationship is perfect. It was sickening. What was I doing to myself? I believed he loved me. I believed he wanted me. I was forced to do many things I did not want to do. I was lonely. I was alone in HIS world. I was fake. I had to be fake. I had to be fake in order to survive. Those were the worst years of my entire life. I look back on my memories and just shake my head. How could I let those things happen?
She is stronger than ever! 