I wouldn't put it past those three men to help me. I walked up to them one day and asked them to make me be beautiful. I had heard from other women that they did this sort of thing. Then again, most of the women worked for them and they were expected to be beautiful. Most of them were naturally beautiful. They wouldn't want ugly women to work for them. Especially an ugly woman like me. I was of average American height and dressed like a grandma.
My face was riddled with freckles here and there. My skin was the color of brown clay. My brownish-red hair was always like a bird's nest. It didn't matter how many times I brushed it or washed it. The only thing I considered beautiful were my eyes. I'm sure if they weren't the pretty hazel they were, I would look more than just ugly. You would think I don't love myself, and you'd be right as rain.
My maman has told me time and time again. My sisters have reminded me everyday. My brothers never said anything, but I could see they feel only pity for me when other guys laugh at how I would never be able to date. There is no man out there for me. Not unless he's also ugly or blind. Or he was just like all the other guys out there who thought it would be hilarious to pick on the ugly girl. It happened to me once and it was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. I don't know why I fell for it. Maybe it's just my constant desperation to be loved for being me.
There's not much I can say or do that'll be enough to convince myself that I am enough. Maybe if I grew up with a loving family, maybe I'd think differently. Although, being one of France's top models isn't so bad. I honestly can never believe how I landed in the lap of three men who saved my future.
Here is how it all happened:
"Honey, you need to go out and get some sun," Pére said from behind his newspaper. "It's about time you did something productive."
I looked up at my maman and she only shrugged. It was like her not to argue with what my papa thought was best for me. I looked back at my bowl of oatmeal and fruit. It seemed really unappetizing at this point. I wasn't hungry, but I knew that if I told my maman that, she'd get me in trouble.
"I don't want to go out, Pére," I grumbled. "There isn't anything out there for me. I've got no friends and I can't even get a job."
"Only because you never actually tried to get one."
"No one wants an ugly woman to work for them. I can't even get a house, because no guy will even look at my face."
"What about getting a female realtor?"
I sighed and crossed my arms. "The women only care if it's a guy and if he's single."
Pére put down his paper and stared at me. I was familiar with this stare. It asked me why I was still living with my parents when I was old enough to live on my own. I had no answer for that. They were always the same. Either no one wanted to look at my face or I was just too lazy to deal with the problem of living with my parents at 23.
"Amour, it's okay to think that no one will like you, but it's not okay to think they don't like you, because you don't look as beautiful as them. In my eyes, you're my beautiful daughter and I will always love you. Don't forget that."
"What about maman? She never tells me I'm beautiful." I looked at my mother pointedly.
"Don't worry about what your maman thinks. She has her opinions and I have my facts."
That made me feel a little better. That meant my father thought I was still that beautiful little girl I was years ago. If only I had cared about my image then.
"How about I go with you today, oui?" Pére asked. I shrugged. "I could get you any house you desire with no hassle. Then, you'll finally be able to seduce guys like you've always wanted to, amour."
"Pére, that is not funny!" I exclaimed. "That sort of hurt my feelings."
"I wasn't trying to be funny, but since I got you to agree, we can go after lunch. Then, you're on your own, because I have work in a couple of hours."
"You really don't have to. I can always continue college and pursue a career."
"Amour, I will not allow my daughter to attend school...again. You're too smart for your own good. Why don't you be like those American girls and get into business? It will do you some good, Francesca. I want you to use your brain for something good by the end of this month. I don't want you to come back here without a job after we get your house bought and furnished."
"Pére--"
"I didn't ask for your opinion, amour."
"But--"
"How about we go now? It'll do us both some good."
"Maman--"
"Don't put me in this." Maman put a hand up. "I have work and I don't have time for anyone's issues right now."
Pére took a look at maman and sighed. There was no point in arguing with her. Something about my maman made me want to curl up and die in a corner. She always made me feel like I was a failure. Like I was the child that ruined her "perfect" family.
"Cesca, we can go now. Just let me get my shoes. You go get dressed," Pére ordered. "I'll make sure that the limo is ready, because my beautiful daughter will be riding in style."
I didn't argue. He was forever going to insist we used the limo at least once this month. I guess today was the day. At least I didn't have to be with maman. That woman was like poison in this family. Or that's just my own opinion.
I watched as Pére got up and slowly made his way out of the dining room. Maman took one last look at me and left also. There was something wrong with that woman. I wasn't going to try and find out what either. Just...I hope I don't turn out like her.