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Lindsay didn't always love pink or love cheer-leading, or have blonde hair, she used to adore green, love playing soccer, and had light brown hair. Her parents had five daughters before her, so she was used to having that "Your Sisters Come First" Speech given by her parents when they forget to pick her up from school or soccer practice or games. They usually spent time at her sisters' cheer leading games or being praised for the five daughters looks.
One Day that all changed. She and her mother were home, cleaning out their basement.
"Oh Lindsey, look it's your sister Clover's first modeling job age six." Her Mother said pointing out a picture of a young little blonde girl with blue eyes who was posing with a bunch of lilies, roses, and violets. A giant white smile was printed on her face.
"You know you are close to when Clover first started modeling, if you let me take you to the hair salon then you can get the amazing blonde hair that you didn't get. Also we can talk to my surgeon about those awfully big feet and maybe cut you to a size one! Wouldn't that be fun?" Her mom asked looking down at her daughter.
This was what Lindsay usually got from her family. Clover who was the oldest would criticize how Lindsey liked school or liked sports. Then the twins Cleo and Clementine would make fun of her brown hair or how big her feet were. Then Rose who would say snippy comments about how many people refused to sit with her at lunch. Julie would say to her parents, siblings, and Lindsey about how she dishonored the family name about not being "pretty" enough to be a Martin. And then there was Catherine who would show some Lindsey from time to time and sometimes came to her soccer matches to cheer her on.
"Mommy, I'm five. I'm not your little doll that you can dress up and make look at a clone of your daughters. Can't you love me for me?" The six year old asked her mother. Her mother look her in the eyes and knelled down to Lindsey's level.
"Sweetie, Love is something people get from their looks. You're not like your sisters, Not Blonde, Not Girly, and not a Martin. Honey, unless you're like your sisters then you're not my daughter, I don't love people who are not my daughters. That's how the world works." Lindsey look at her mother in complete and utter shock. Nothing in her world could prepare the five year old for those words. She ran to her bedroom and look around.
It wasn't like her sister's rooms it was more like a boy's room. Green Walls, Sports awards everywhere, and Soccer gear around the room. Her Sisters room where all the same, Pink walls with purple hearts, Cheer leading or singing awards, and nail polish bottles around the rooms.
Lindsey look in the mirror, "You Wish that you can be the same from you family, you want to be a Martin, Your will be like your sisters but one day when you are older, you will be yourself again. But now you must wear a mask." Lindsey though to herself.
From That Day forward Lindsey was like her family, A Cheerleader, Blonde, Pretty, Like her sisters. Every time Lindsey won a cheer leading competition, her family was there smiling being proud of their daughter and sister. But Lindsey felt guilt instead of pride, a mask that hides her tears, a mask that hides her feelings, but soon it will be gone. Forever.