Letter #7

Dear Teenage Girls,

If I die tonight, I want to tell you a recent experience of mine. One that I hope will mean something to you, one that might change the ways you look at some things, and judge others.

Earlier this week, my school's reputation was tarnished by a nudes scandal. Yes, that's right, freshman and sophomore boys had created a group chat full of all the nude pictures sent to them by girls over the years. Phones were confiscated, the accused were interrogated, the guilty were suspended. Some are even having trials to put them on the sex-offender's list for child pornography. Can you imagine being fifteen and already having that on your record? Anyway, in the wake of this scandal, many seats were left empty in classrooms and students wondered who was going to be gone next. I didn't have any relation to the misconduct nor did any of my friends, so I hadn't really thought about it unless it was mentioned in passing during class. Wednesday just happened to be the day I woke up late, threw on a 2XL sweatshirt and left for school, makeup-less and half awake. It just so happened that this was the height of the story. The news had made it's way all around school and everyone was on the lookout for missing classmates. I was walking to my last class, pulling my sleeves over my hands, arms crossed, when all of a sudden, I was hit with embarrassment like a ton of bricks. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of everyone's eyes on me. I became obsessed with the idea that they thought I was one of the picture senders. That I was ashamed and trying to hide my body even thought it really was just a matter of how lazy I felt that morning.

I never really realized the impact my clothes had on my self confidence until that day. It's so weird that something as cozy and comfortable as a sweatshirt can make me want to scream IT WASN'T ME. It's funny that we read so much into outfit choices even if the reason for their selection was purely out of how much sleep you got the previous night, or how cold it was outside. I guess I'm just trying to say that whatever you wear, own it, because everyone is going to have a different interpretation, but you will always be the only one who knows the real reason (or lack there of) for wearing it.

Love,
A Still-Sweatshirt-Wearing Girl