my spiritual makeup

I remember looking approvingly at my reflection in the bathroom mirror at school. I had "borrowed" my older sister's eyeliner, and I probably looked more like a raccoon than a seventh-grade girl. But at the time, I felt absolutely beautiful. My mom eventually yielded in our battle about wearing makeup, predicting that I would learn moderation in my own time.

In junior high, I was horrified at the thought of someone seeing any sign of a blemish or acne on my face, so I covered up with foundation and powder. And if I happened to spot a friend on a Saturday at the library or the grocery store, I would often duck into a random aisle just to avoid being seen without makeup.

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