Lucky

I started this piece on a day that I was in so much pain that even my pain medication could not completely suppress the distress. Once I could get out of bed to work on art, I started rumaging through my magazines and I came across five or so LUCKY magazines with beautiful models and subtitles like "Bombshell hair" and "PERFECTLY PRETTY." I suddenly became so infuriated (at such a high dose of prednisone, one's emotions are often extreme) because of the messages these magazines are sending. They are telling young women that, to be regarded as "perfect", they should focus on improving their appearance. I looked at the word "lucky" and felt like the unluckiest girl in the world; I was spending my senior year fighting my own body (ulcerative colitis is an autoimmune disease) with drugs that gave me fat cheeks and acne and a whole slew of other side effects. Then, I took another look at myself and realized that, compared to so many other children, I am so fortunate.