Essay About Mom Do I Have a Mustache?

Almost any woman who looks back on being a teenager or pre teen will have at least one memory of that awful girl who always had to pick out the worst thing on you and announce it to the world. I had too many to count. I was the girl with red hair and black eyebrows. Like that is my fault, that is how I was born and there was nothing I could do about it. I heard comments on a daily basis for the entire 12 years I was in school. I would come home crying as an adolescent and begging for help as a teenager. PLEASE MOM!!! Dye my eyebrows, that’s all I ask. My mother never did dye those caterpillars so I had to endure the constant ridicule. I vowed if I ever had a daughter I would do everything in my power to make sure she was never made fun of.

Fast forward to the future. Now I am a mother of a beautiful little girl. I’m telling you she is drop dead gorgeous!! I am not just saying that because I am her mother, she really is. Yet, somehow girls find a way of making my daughter so self conscious. First It was her hairy legs. Don’t all girls have hairy legs at 9 years old. They are not suppose to be smooth and silky, you’re 9! That didn’t stop them from literally torchering my daughter on a daily basis. So, as I promised myself I went out and bought her a nice teen spirit electric shaver and so began the smooth. One problem down,1000 to go.

Then it was the wombat ears. What? That’s right. Day after day she would get made fun of for her ears. There was nothing wrong with her ears, I swear. What does one do for wombat ears? Then it was unibrow. O.K. this I can handle. I taught her how to shave between her eyebrows to shut everyone up. But I could not keep up with the constant digs to her confidence. Every night it was crying in front of the mirror because of what these girls were saying.

Now it is my experience, and keep in mind I have a lot of experience in this field, that usually when someone is making fun of you it is to get the attention off of themselves. My mother always told me to ignore those type of girls and I am going to tell you that is such a bad idea. My mother obviously never got picked on. Girls won’t and don’t stop until they beat you down with the sharpest of tounges to the point of surrender. It is an awful battle, especially for the loser. I was the loser for a long time until one day I looked in the mirror. Really looked in the mirror and didn’t hate what I saw, I just hated them. That was the year I got suspended so many times I held the record. I was proud of my suspensions because I just started beating up all of those mean girls. Don’t even look at me crooked.

I am not promoting violence in any way, there is a happy medium. The first thing I taught my daughter was to like herself. I stood her in front of the mirror and told her to look, really look. How can you honestly look at yourself and not like what you see? She knew I was right. That worked a little bit. Then it was to look at the girl who is making fun of you. Is she fat? Is she ugly? Does she like herself? Probably not. An eye for an eye I say. Giver her a taste of her own medicine. I think that is the only way one can stop being a bully, have it done to them. Let them see how it feels for the world to stare at them in judgement. For their classmates to point and laugh as they walk alone in shame. To have all their friends leave them as they are being made fun of so that they are not harassed as well. To stand there, all alone and ugly. It’s really good medicine, trust me.

So no, my darling daughter you do not have a mustache. You have a beautiful angel face that all the girls are jealous of. Your beauty is overwhelming and I am proud to be your mother!.