I flopped down onto the lunch room chair and laid my lunch box down in front of me.

As my friends began to pack the table, I spread out my array of food across the table: a sandwich, baby carrots, Capri Sun and a Little Debbie Cosmic Brownie.

I peeled open the bag of carrots and popped one into my mouth. One of my friends looked up at me, a grin spreading across her face as she elbowed my other friend. They both stared at me, then one said, “Bailey, you look like a rabbit!”

My face instantly turned tomato red and tears swelled in my eyes as the entire table burst into laughter.

My stomach turned sick and I collected my food and threw it in the garbage, then I fled from the cafeteria.

I ran to the nearest bathroom, tears pouring from my eyes as I threw open the door.

I stumbled over to the mirror and looked at the puffy-eyed girl that stood in front of me. The girl with a huge overbite and buck teeth.

I found shelter in a bathroom stall and sobbed, hating my mom for passing on her “small mouth” gene to me. I pushed my thumb against the front of my teeth, hoping to shove the over bite back into place.

Hopelessly, I waited for the bell to ring, then slowly dragged my feet back to my classroom, where more laughter awaited.

It took until freshman year for me to finally get braces and I thought that all the years of name-calling would finally fade away. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

More crude comments, like “metal-mouth” and “train tracks” followed. These remarks paired with acne and an awful sense of style made my insecurity hit an all time low.

Many nights I would go home and cry for hours, wishing I was “one of the pretty girls.” I wished I looked like anyone else but myself.

After about 3 years of orthodontic check-ups and rubber bands it finally came time to take off my braces. I nearly ran into the office, a junior who couldn’t have been more excited about anything ever.

For the first time in my life, I was finally going to feel and look beautiful. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. People’s expectations for my beauty went further than just my teeth.

I was now stuck in an endless cycle of fixing myself, hoping that when I looked in the mirror of society’s standards I would see perfection. But these flaws never end.

As someone who didn’t, and still doesn’t, wear makeup I get comments on how I would look “much prettier” if I only put on a little bit of mascara or highlighted my natural features.

However, when I tell people that I like being all natural many just say “oh, well that’s stupid.” These comments still upset me, but will it ever end?

Eventually, I gave up on trying to look beautiful for anyone but myself. I wear dresses and do my hair to make myself feel good, because I know now that no matter how much I try, I’ll never be enough. And that’s okay. I’m comfortable and confident with who I am.

So now when I look back onto my pictures from middle school and early high school, I smile. I was always one of the pretty girls.