It starts with a whitehead at the tip of my nose,
and I’m only ten, and 

it has to come off, darling, Mom says, 

so she sends me to get a needle from her sewing kit,
doesn’t matter if it still has thread in it or not, just

run it under the hottest water you can stand,
then come sit in my lap 

and 

hold still, for God’s sake, this won’t hurt.

A prick of the needle and wet running down the sides of my nose
and she squeezes and squeezes and 

we’ll just make sure it’s all out,
tomorrow we’ll get you some Bonne Bell like your cousins use,
how on earth is your skin so oily? 

#

Then it’s blackheads, 

those ugly little things, don’t you hear the way
the church ladies titter? 

And they’re across my forehead and my cheeks and the side of my nose and 

I better check your shoulders, too, take off your shirt
because there’s no way you’re wearing a sundress
to church looking like that 

and I have to lay down on the couch where I’ll move less
and she can get a better angle to squeeze squeeze squeeze.

And 

aren’t you using the Bonne Bell, 

and 

you better be, it was expensive, 

and 

your cousins are religious about cleaning their faces,
you know.

#

Then it’s a visit from my aunt and her eye-rolling daughters, and

look how skinny they are,
your grandmother would be so proud,

and 

look at their eyebrows, 

and 

when did your eyebrows get so bushy, 

and 

pass me the tweezers, 

so now after she’s done with my blackheads every night
she takes a few hairs, too, and 

we’ll have you looking tidy in no time,
but don’t you think you could stand to lose a few pounds, darling?

#

Then my dad comes over to drag the exercise bike up from the storage locker, 

he’s not much, but he’ll do anything
if I tell him it’s for you, darling, 

and my mom puts the bike down as low as you can go and times me while I pedal for a whole kilometre, and now it’s blackheads and eyebrows and exercise every night, and homework if there’s time.

#

Then one night she looks at me like she’s never seen me before, and 

is your father still letting you eat ice cream, darling?

and I pedal harder because 

you don’t want to have to settle for the first man you meet,
like I did, and your father’s no prize, 

and she makes me smaller lunches, and 

your cousins exercise all the time and hardly eat anything,
no wonder they’re so beautiful, 

and 

I love you, but you’re no beauty queen.

#

Then I’m twelve and I’m bigger than the other girls in my class and my ugly fat teenage cousins 

are getting bust reductions, darling, doesn’t that sound like a good idea?
You don’t want to have back pain like they do 

and I start to cry and 

but not until you’re older, once your skin clears up
and you’ve lost all that weight.

#

Then I’m thirteen and my mom takes me out of school for a spa day, I’m supposed to take a big test but 

this is a treat for us, darling, 

and we get our eyebrows waxed and get facials and get our toenails painted and I won’t be able to make up that test, not like I had time to study anyway, but I ask if I can get my ears pierced while we’re there (just like my cousins) and 

after you lose ten more pounds 

and 

only if you wear your retainer for six months straight,
I know you hide it under your pillow at night,
your cousins have such beautiful, straight teeth. 

#

Then I’m fourteen and my mom meets a new man, and 

I’m not settling this time, darling, 

and we move into his house, and 

his house, his rules, 

and 

why are you so ungrateful when I’ve given you
everything I’ve never had? 

She talks about straight teeth, clear skin, and 

I would have killed for a mother who cared. 

She calls me 

unladylike 

and 

childish 

and hates my black clothes even though 

black is so slimming, darling, 

and hates that I won’t cover my blemished skin with makeup and hates my 

tantrums 

and my 

closed doors

and

even your father can see what a bitch you are.

#

Then I’m sixteen and 

where did those scratches on your arms come from,
darling, we don’t have a cat 

and the knife and the knife and 

why don’t you ever open your curtains and
let the sunlight in? 

and her new husband hates me and he’s 

going to send you to live with your father,
and me along with you 

and 

shape up,
can’t you see it’s my happiness on the line?

#

Then my mom sees an ad on TV and 

your cousins took modelling and etiquette classes,
maybe that will fix you, 

and the teacher promises to make me charming, graceful and gracious, 

just like your cousins,
darling, 

and she shows me how to cover my scars with long sleeves and makeup and how to smile 

like you mean it 

and how to 

quit dragging your feet 

because 

smile, darling,
learning to act like a lady isn’t going to kill you.

#

Then I’m seventeen and the charm classes are done and I hide my scars and I wear makeup and I smile all the time and piercing my ears is just the right kind of pain and my mom says 

look at you 

but what she means is 

I couldn’t make my mother proud of me, either.