Piggy

My room is a wreck. There are clothes, so many piles of clothes. I spend hours every day trying to coordinate the perfect outfit. I hide my stomach with baggy shirts and always wear jeans with a jacket. I’ve always been self-conscious about my size, and the first day of high school was no exception. I knew if I could make it through the day without embarrassing myself too much, I’d be ok. Life just never seemed to be too kind to me.

I walked downstairs to breakfast on the table, a rare occurrence. Mom sat across from me, staring intently at my outfit. My plate contained six orange slices next to a mug of black coffee.

“Mom, can I please add cream and sugar? I don’t like coffee. I hate the bitterness.” Mom looked me up and down. “Honey, I think you should skip them. That jacket wasn’t as tight last year.” I ate quickly and we made polite conversation. I held onto the lump in my throat with as much strength as I had during breakfast, then walked back upstairs. Staring in the mirror, I checked my waistline with a tape measure. Mom was right. I was bigger than I was a year ago. My stomach protruded, I had to pull my pants over my gut, and I knew I’d never be good enough to be loved. Mom couldn’t bring herself to care for a daughter who was the opposite of her glory days. She had been beautiful, fit, and so popular. I ruined her body. I ruined her life. And I had done the same to myself.

I decided to spend the rest of the morning before school in the barn, my safe space. It hadn’t been used for farming since my grandfather was alive. I went to the barn for refuge. Nobody judged me there. The only electronics were the ones I brought. The only things occupying it were the spiders on the walls. I could quietly read, or listen to music, and drown out my invasive thoughts there.

I ran to the road when I saw the bus coming. The ride was uneventful. I had survived the first chance to humiliate myself somehow. I pictured myself tripping on the steps getting on, or accidentally telling the driver “I love you” after she greeted me with a “good morning.” The next part, arrival at school, was the real obstacle. I went through the day from class to class, math, science, history, English, Spanish. The whole day was boring, and I was okay with boring. I had seen someone fall into a trash can and I could not imagine being her. I even sat with a group of girls at lunch. They ignored me, but they didn’t ask me to leave when I sat down. I chose not to eat so I could make my jacket fit better. We couldn’t afford a new one. When I got home, I went straight to the barn. I finished my homework, listened to music, and wrote in my diary. It was an amazing first day.

By week two of high school, I felt a shred of confidence. I had made friends. I had lost a few pounds. I had felt pretty. I pulled out a pair of jean shorts, and paired them with a Hawaiian button down, a white undershirt, and a belt. I pulled my hair back and looked into the mirror. I was shocked to see that I didn’t hate the person staring back. When I walked downstairs, I saw Mom’s eyes widen. Her face grew red, and her eyebrows sunk into an expression I knew well. “Brave choice,” Mom said quietly. “Mom, I’m trying to lose weight. I’m trying so hard, I promise.” She glared at me with a hatred I’d known all my life. “Change. Now. What even is that? I’m embarrassed for you.” I looked down at my outfit I had so carefully chosen and looked back at her. I tried desperately to think of a retort. Instead, I chose not to listen. I hadn’t measured myself. I hadn’t obsessed over whether I could fit my hand around my wrist. I hadn’t thought about restricting. I grabbed my bag and walked out the door. I heard a couple of snickers on the bus. That was fine. I looked good.

Math. Science. History. Lunch.

English class was hell. A boy I had befriended, Evan, went to greet me and he said the thing. The thing I had dreaded all my life that was bound to happen. “Hey Piggy – No! God. I’m so sorry. Peggy! Hey Peggy!” It was too late. He swore he hadn’t meant it, but everybody was already roaring with laughter. Who was I to think I was anything more than Piggy Peggy?

Spanish class redeemed my faith in humanity. Some of the other kids who were in my English class made jokes, but I tried to drown out my thoughts. After the bell, Jake sat in front of me. This wasn’t his usual class, and I was confused. There was nobody that sat around me, and Jake was popular. Why would he choose to sit here? He turned around and smiled, and my heart dropped. “Hey, what are you doing Friday? Do you want to go to the dance?” Psh. The dance. The most cliché thing about high school. It’s going to be a boring time for whoever he was aski – wait. Jake was facing me. He was asking ME. “I’d love to,” I answered way too quickly. “Sweet. I don’t have a car, so maybe your mom can bring you? See you there.” Praise baby Jesus, these shorts had given me life.

My mom was ecstatic. Her daughter had a date with a popular boy. She picked up a double shift to pay for the dress and the shoes. She did my makeup, talked to me about dances when she was young, and she spent hours continuously acknowledging my existence. I felt hot tears and she asked what was wrong. Truthfully, I was happy she was being so nice to me, but I couldn’t say that. “Must be the eyeliner making my eyes water.”

I walked into that school believing I was Madonna made over. Nobody could tell me anything. I was Jake’s date. I smiled at everyone confidently, and they all smiled back. I wasn’t used to it, and it made me feel even prettier. When I saw Jake, my jaw almost physically dropped. He was in a black tuxedo with his long brown hair slicked back. He had a group of girls around him giggling. He always did. I walked up to him to let him know I had arrived. His eyes widened. I blushed a little before he took a huge sip of punch and loudly said, “Hey, Piggy!”

The room erupted with laughter. Suddenly I couldn’t distinguish one voice from another. The huge auditorium made the laughter turn into an echo of shame and humiliation. I ran in my heels, tripping as I sped away. I walked home and went straight to the barn. Why would he do that? I felt so beautiful. I tried so hard. Was it my belly? My arms? Me? How could someone steal someone else’s light so confidently? I dropped to the dirt floor in my dress and slumped into a mess of tears and anger.

An hour later, I heard a knock on the barn door. Confused, I pushed it open. A male figure stepped out of the shadows. It was Evan. “Please go,” I begged. “I know why you’re here. Go ahead. Call me Piggy. Have your fun. I don’t care.”

Instead, he slipped past me into the barn. My heart was racing. Was he here to hurt me? Were the other boys here too? He kneeled to the ground in what had to be the nicest suit he owned and started a machine that projected bright lights and slow music. “Peggy, I felt horrible when I misspoke. You stopped talking to me and to be honest, that was hard for me to handle. I stammered because you looked so beautiful in that moment that I couldn’t speak. Tonight, you look even more incredible, and I needed a chance to ask you to dance with me. I think you’re smart. You’re funny. You’re an incredible person. It killed me to have you so mad at me. Whether you ask me to leave or want to slap me in the face, I’m willing to risk it to ask for this dance.”

He grabbed my hands gently and pulled them around his neck. He placed his hands around my waist and started slowly swaying. I was stunned and at a loss for words. “You’re a terrible dancer,” I said with tears running down my face.” “I know,” he replied, pulling me in closer. With mascara running, lipstick smeared, and salty tears on my cheeks, I saw my reflection in the phone I had forgotten to put down in the heat of the moment. On that screen I could see a girl who had never felt more beautiful.