My awkward stage hit its peak when I was in middle school. I had cowlicked bangs that winged out like a handlebar mustache, perma-chapped lips, curves I wasnt comfortable with, and a dozen stubborn zits. I spent a lot of time in my room, blasting No Doubt to drown out my angst. At that same time, my younger sister, Dina, went straight from adorable little kid to mega-hottie preteen practically overnight.
She was tall like a model and nailed the look everyone in our neighborhood wanted: perfect curls and clear golden skin. She got attention everywhere we went. Family vacations were the worst. Shed strut around in a teeny bikini as I hid under an umbrella wearing a T-shirt over my one-piece to hide my shape.
Id roll my eyes at her skimpy suits and make judgy comments, projecting my insecurities onto her. Dina was a 24-7 reminder of the things I hated about myself. And what made it harder is that I couldnt just go home after school and forget about how flawless she was the prettiest, most popular girl lived with me.
And to be honest, there are still times when I feel a pang of jealousy over what a babe she is. But I know now I have a lot to bring to the table, too. Few girls know their way around a liquid liner like I do! Ive realized that having my perfect little sister sitting next to me doesnt make me any less fab it just makes everything more fun.