When I look back at the people from my early middle school years, they seem like your average pre-teens, right down to the tiny insecurities and attempts to be exactly like everyone else, as if that would make their lives so much better. Yes, they all looked almost identical and had the same personality, but what did you expect? It’s middle school. At least, that was how it was until last year - eighth grade. I guess I was so used to being in a school where everyone is just a clone of all the others, when someone who went to extremes to change their appearance in any way not to look like them, it hit me as a shock. I didn’t realize until then that some people have insecurities much bigger than the petty ones I have about my hair being frizzy. But once I noticed it, it was impossible to forget and even harder not to be upset with the beauty standards that make kids do crazy things with their outer image. 

On the first day of school, as I walked through the door into homeroom, I noticed my teacher talking to a new student. She was tall, had short brown hair, round glasses, and dressed like the most VSCO person to ever walk the planet; decked out with giant graphic t-shirts and shell jewelry.  

“Quincy!” I turned around startled as my teacher shouted my name. How was she already mad at me? It’s literally the first day. “Introduce yourself to your new classmate.” 

“Hey,” I said to the new girl, not sure what else to say. 

“Hey! I’m Noa! I used to go to the same school district but then I moved for a year. You probably wouldn’t have met me, though. Have you ever gone horse riding? I like doing that. But I’m not a horse girl, I’m really not! Sorry, I talk too much.” She stuck out her hand for me to shake, and I stood there for a second, startled at how much information she just shoved at me in under five seconds. Dang, that girl talks fast.

 
The next Thursday, I took a seat at the table where I usually sat at; my friend since kindergarten on my right and Noa on my left. I turned my head and realized that it wasn’t Noa next to me, but another new person. Could that be right? I took another look and saw that, yes, it was Noa, but without her glasses or her hair. 

“Did you shave your hair?” I asked. 

“Yeah, I want to grow it back darker,” she replied. Her hair did grow back quickly and much darker. I didn’t think much of how many times I had had to get used to her new looks in the month since I met her until I saw her walking into school the next day. She had bleached her hair white, had somehow lost the tan in her face in less than 24 hours, and had eyeliner wings that took up half her face. It was almost as if she was trying to look like she was about to attempt to possess everyone at the school. 

After that, I would notice how often she changed her appearance, and how every time she changed it, she would try to make her personality go with her look, usually failing to do so. I started to wonder why she would look so different so often. What compelled her to look like an entirely new person every week? Yes, the VSCO look from when I first met her wasn’t great, but couldn’t she just change it once and be done?  

After some time, I came to the conclusion that it was insecurity that led to her transformations, and whatever insecurities Noa had, weren’t just hers. Whatever identity crisis was causing her appearance shifts, other people had it too. Once I noticed Noa’s, I noticed that a tenth grader, Jackia, was doing the same thing. Her hair from long and red, to white, to short and black and the freckles that used to be splotched across her face and arms were non-existent. Then I saw that Jackia’s entire friend group was a mob of ever-changing faces. Blondes went brunette. Brunettes went blonde. Somehow, one girl’s eyes even changed color.  

I’m not sure how I didn’t notice it before, but there are so many people who feel the need to change themselves every week. But should they really need to? We are setting so many standards and making people feel so forced to be pretty that they never feel pleased with themselves. They switch their outward image, and sometimes even their inward one, so many times trying to fit the standard, that they just end up losing themselves in the process. No one will ever truly meet the all of the expectations that society sets, and we need to realize that and accept that we are all beautiful in our own way, however we look.