Mothers and Daughters
by Emma P.

I’m the kid everyone laughs at, you know, the one in the front of the class, who wears glasses and actually takes notes. The summer we moved, my mom couldn’t have been happier. She would always tell me “Now you can be different, you can have friends, and play sports." Let me tell you, that sure did hurt.

I spent most of the summer in my house, reading or writing, to my mom’s dislike. She said that I’d never make friends in time for school if I just sat around the house all day, but I told her that I was independent. Making friends would just drag me down, and I’d manage just fine on my own.

After weeks of hoping I’d go out on my own, my mom finally forced me to go out into public. One afternoon, I was doing my usual, reading, when my mom burst in waving a flyer in my face. When she finally calmed down enough for me to read it, I almost died right then and there. It was an ad for the annual Miss Halls Worth pageant; of course, my mom couldn’t have been happier. From what I’d heard, this was the big event of the year for all girls in Halls Worth, ages 14-19. I tried my hardest to keep my mom from finding out, but it seems that my efforts failed. My mom couldn’t be more gorgeous. I couldn’t be less pretty if I tried. My mom’s gorgeous blonde hair glistens and my dull brown hair, not so much. I cover my eyes with glasses, where my mom shows them off with her 20/20 vision. I thought for awhile that I must have been adopted, but I think deep down my mom thought the same thing. We couldn’t be less alike. She has her hundreds of pageant trophies displayed all over our house. When I was younger, she tried and tried to get me to enter into pageants, but nothing could make me. Maybe I was having an out-of-body experience that afternoon, but for some absurd reason, I agreed to enter the pageant.

Today, my mom and I drove over to the community center and signed me up. I couldn’t have felt worse when we walked in the room and at least twenty heavily made-up faces turned to look at the sideshow who was walking by. I could just imagine them all thinking, “Well there’s one I know I can beat.” I would have run out right then if it hadn’t been for my mom’s giant smile plastered on her face. I couldn’t let her down anymore. This was my chance to make her proud of me.

For the next week, I went through beauty boot camp. My mom coached me on everything to make me beautiful, from how to apply make-up to what clothes flattered my body the best. I have to say, she knows her stuff. Once it was all said and done, I didn’t look half as bad as I thought I would.

The pageant is today and, of course, I’m freaking out. The first event is evening wear. Just the sound of it makes me sick to my stomach. Of course, my mom is right by my side, saying, “You can do it, honey” and “Don’t be nervous, honey, it’ll bring you down.” When I walk down the runway to practice, I hear my mom shout, “Work it, honey.” I heard the other girls snickering, and muttering “what a dork”, but I just pretended I couldn’t hear them. As I walk down the runway for the real thing, I nearly miss tripping twice, but all in all I didn’t do half bad. Or at least I thought I did, but in the end of the first event, my score put me in last place.

Afterward my mom tried to cheer me up, but it was no use. I wanted to quit the stupid pageant! I had tried my hardest and still got last place; if that wasn’t proof I sucked, I don’t know what is. I was about to walk out of the conference center right then and there, but it was then that I saw my mom’s sad eyes about to boil over and tears, and I couldn’t walk out on her, not yet.

I was 7th in the order for talent and just watching everyone else’s perfect back flips and ballet routines made my silly poem look like nothing. I got up on stage and, thankfully, made it through the poem, and, to my surprise, everyone started clapping. Some people were even standing up. It was truly unbelievable. Once the scores were totaled for that event, I moved from last to 10th. I advanced four whole places. My mom couldn’t have been happier. For a while, I was so happy with myself, I started thinking maybe this pageant thing isn’t so bad. Maybe I should do it more often, but then I realized that one event doesn’t put me on top, it puts me in tenth. On my way back to my changing area, one of the other girls stopped dead in front of me. She leans in real close and whispers, “Don’t get any ideas, sideshow, it’s my year to win and nothing’s going to stop me!” I almost lost my breakfast, but it made me want to win this thing for me now, and not just my mom.

At that moment, I realized I really need to bust my butt if I’m going to win this thing. Four places may be a lot but I need to advance ten more places within two more events: everyday wear and interviews.

I finally realized this was it. If I was going to win this thing, I had to do really well in this next event. This was the last event and I was in 10th. Even with my great knowledge of interviews and stunning outfit, I was still going to have to fight off my nerves. After dinner, I started to get ready. I changed into my outfit for the practice run and my mom threw on another layer of make-up. Then I rushed to the stage, just barely making it for my turn. When I walked down the runway to model my everyday wear, I felt pretty confident. Luckily for me, my mom was too busy setting up my things to come and watch. When it got to be my turn for the interviews, I was very nervous. I thought for sure they were going to ask me something I had forgotten to study and sure enough, they did. The question was: How do I relate to my mother. I was dazed. What could I say? My mom and I were like oil and water, nothing alike. The best thing I could think to do is lie. My mom told me just an hour before that whatever I do don’t lie, but I couldn’t help it; desperate times call for desperate measures. I told the judges that my mom and I both had a passion for beauty pageants and both enjoyed volunteering together at the local homeless shelter. I started to wonder if that was too much, maybe they wouldn’t buy the homeless shelter idea, but I was wrong, they ate it up. They couldn’t have been more thrilled, and I was very relieved.

I had an hour to relax before I had to get ready for the real thing. I changed out of my clothes, ate as much as my nervous stomach allowed, and did some meditating with my mom. That was her idea, not mine. After I changed and reapplied my face full of make-up, I took a peek at the crowd. That was a bad idea. There had to have been at least a hundred people in the audience, and that was without everyone’s crazy mothers. I took some deep breaths and tried to relax. Once the event got going I started to relax even more. I guess watching everyone else survive their last trip down the runway made it seem less intimidating. I was last in the order, and watching everyone else go seemed to calm me down. When it finally got to be my turn, I went up on stage and glided down the runway, suddenly filled with excitement that it was finally my turn. I made it up and back without tripping and was very pleased, but not as pleased as my mom. She ran at me jumping up and down screaming, “Good job, you were wonderful”, and occasionally leaning to the other moms saying, “This one is mine”. For some reason, this time I wasn’t embarrassed.

When they posted the scores, I had moved to 6th. I was so happy. I never thought I would ever get so into something like this, but I was totally sold by now I was going to win. When it got to my turn for the interview, all the butterflies came back. What had happened during practice made me very apprehensive. “What if they asked me another impossible question, what if I have to lie again?” I thought. When I got up there, I could feel myself shaking, and I hoped no one would notice. My question this time was: What was the most amazing thing that has ever happened to you? “Darn, another hard one,” I thought. I had led a pretty simple and boring life. Nothing too amazing had happened to me, so I was forced to lie again. I knew my mom would probably kill me once she heard this. I said the first thing that came to my mind, that the most amazing thing to happen to me was saving a baby from a burning building, but this time I didn’t sound as convincing. The judges didn’t buy it and some people in the audience started booing. I was so ashamed. I ran off the stage hoping people would just forget what I said. My mom was very mad. She yelled and yelled on how I should never lie and how even if your life’s not that amazing it’s better than lying. I couldn’t take this. With the booing and my mom yelling at me, I ran and hid in the bathroom, for a very long time.

After some time, I hear the bathroom door swing open, and my mom calls for me. I don’t answer at first, but just as I hear her open the bathroom to leave, I speak up.

“Mom, do you hate me?” I finally manage to say.

“No, why would I?” she calls back.

She knocks on the door of the stall I’m in, and I unlock it to let her in. I get off the toilet seat and she sits down. I crawl into her lap. It feels just like it did when I was little.

“I let you down, I blew the competition, I broke the golden rule, I lied.” I say this as I fight back tears.

She pulls me close to her and whispers to me, “You’re perfect.” With that I slide out of her arms and give her the tightest hug I could manage.

“Maybe we should go back out there, people might wonder,” I tell her as I slide off her lap and leave the bathroom.

When we finally came out, they had posted the scores, and I had finished last. I wasn’t surprised, but it did hurt a little bit. The girl who had stopped me earlier walked by, hugging her trophy, “See”, she said. “Everything worked out according to plan. They picked the real winner. It was a good thing I put you in your place, though, or you might have had a chance.” Through all that, I found a compliment in there, and it made me smile for the first time all day. “Thanks” I reply, “You’re not too bad yourself.”

I’ll never forget that day, the day my life changed forever. It was truly special in that I learned how much my mom really did love me, and that it was okay we were so different. I learned that sometimes, we don’t always know everything, even though a lot of the time we think we do. And that sometimes breaking out of your shell and doing something wacky like a beauty pageant can lead to really great things.