Mama has several objections about how I look—
My teeth, hair, and body.
I’ll start with my teeth.
I’ve had problems with my teeth ever since I was a child.
I didn’t know how to take care of them.
I didn’t pay attention to my appearance (I was a child in elementary school).
I’ll never forget what mama said to me:
“Smile with your mouth closed, so you’ll look good.”

For years, I would smile,
Not laugh,
And talk with my mouth closed.
I don’t wear lipstick,
Because she told me that,
“Lipstick highlights the teeth.”
I was with my daughters one day,
And it was picture day,
Because they had finished elementary school.
“You look like you’re disgusted.”
Someone told me during the picture-taking,
Even though I was actually very happy,
And it was a beautiful day.
What mama said to me back then had stuck with me,
And it made me seem disgusted with my girls.
I’ve stopped laughing with my mouth closed ever since,
But I still very much hate my teeth,
And how my mouth looks.

Next: my hair.
My hair is curly.
It’s a pain to brush.
She never told me that it made me special.
I had to tie my hair back all the time.
I couldn’t wear it down,
Unless it was straightened.

In middle school,
She started chemically straightening my hair,
So that I could wear it down.
I thought I only looked beautiful when it was straightened,
Like the other girls.
Since she only let me wear it down when it was straightened,
I started asking for chemical straightening cream.
The last time I used it was during summer vacation of my freshman year.
I also had to straighten my hair whenever there was a special occasion.

I don’t know when I stopped,
But I remember the last two times I got my hair done,
And the reason behind them.
There was an 8-month difference.
I didn’t have a say in it the last time.
It was to please my grandpa.

It’s been four years now since I’ve straightened my hair.
It’s the only thing I like about my appearance,
And the one thing that represents me.
I don’t allow anyone to tell me to straighten it.
I don’t allow any sort of comment to get through to me.
I pretend not to hear anything,
When she objects to a new haircut,
Or that I’m going out without brushing my hair.

My biggest problem is my body.
My mother was thin until she gave birth to me.
After childbirth,
She had to stay home from work,
So she gained a lot of weight,
And it increased with time.

She’s always made fun of me for being fat,
And how she used to be smaller than me when she was pregnant.
Yet she cooks fatty food,
And picks out baggy clothes for me,
Clothes which don’t suit my taste.
I only wore cotton trousers during school and until freshmen year,
So I could hide my fat body.
“Jeans don’t look good on you,” she’d always tell me.

Until I bought a pair of jeans while she was with me,
During mid-year vacation of freshman year.
They fit me,
And made my body look good.
I haven’t stopped wearing jeans ever since.
I involuntarily lost a lot of weight,
Yet I never felt that she was happy for me.
On the contrary,
Her comments are only negative;
About how I went shopping without her,
Or how I still go out wearing leggings.

I’m trying to love myself,
And accept my body,
But she isn’t.
I buy clothes by myself,
So I could see them through my own eyes,
Not hers.
Her remarks haven’t stopped.
She comments on how I’ve outgrew my clothes,
How I don’t look good,
And how I can’t go out wearing a dress until I lose weight.
She also didn’t like it,
When I tried to change my diet to lose weight.

I changed the style of my clothes,
And my hair,
Only as an act of rebellion.
But I still haven’t learned to love my body the way it is.
I still hear her voice and her remarks in my head.