Think about this for a second: you are shopping for your perfect prom dress with your mom and your sister. It’s early in the morning, just a half an hour after your dress shop of choice opens. Your mom immediately sets the price limit, $125, and with that you begin the search. You all search through the sea of green, blue, red and yellow dresses, all for different styles and tastes.

You all grab at least five dresses each and head to the crowded dressing room. Dresses are thrown left and right, one to your sister and then one to your mom, like everything is being passed around on a well-oiled machine. Chaos ensues as, one by one, each dress disappoints. Just as you lose all hope, you try on just one more. The zipper is zipped as you look in the dainty mirror, and you know all of your dreams were realized.

You take off the dress and cling to it as if nothing in the world will take it away from you. Everyone loves the dress, and since nothing else appeases you anymore, you all head to the cashier.

You realize soon after, throughout all the chaos, that nobody looked at the price tag. You hesitantly look at the tag, and just as fast as your world became perfect, that same world fell to bits. The price on the tag is $200. You well up with emotion just in time for your mom and sister to catch you sobbing over the dress. Your mom, as loving as she could be, agreed to buy the dress.

Now think about this: That same girl that cried over that perfect dress, just a couple months ago, could care less about school dances or being girly in any way. That girl absolutely despised being within five feet of a dress or pair of heels. Well, that girl pretty much sums me up in a nutshell.

The little anecdote above about the dress was an actual event that happened to me not to long ago. My whole life I have been obsessed with “boy-stuff.” I liked cargo pants and big, baggy shirts. I wore men’s shoes because I didn’t like the colors on the girl ones. I love video games that are considered “boys-only” games. I love ninjas, swords and stuff like that. I always hang out with the boys, mostly because they cause less drama.

I never thought I would change to be a “girly-girl” but lately I’ve done a lot of  things that are considered “girly.” I’m wearing “girly” t-shirts and jeans. Just walking through the men’s shoe aisle now gives me the creeps.

I never thought I would cry over a dress, and to be honest, I think the only reason my mom got me the dress is because she was excited that I would even think to cry over something like that.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love playing those boyish video games, and I still like the ninjas and stuff, I’m just finally becoming what most people would say is a “proper girl.”

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