Where I Belong

 Note: This is inspired by Chappell Roan's Pink Pony Club 

    There was a time I looked back on fondly. It's nothing more than a fleeting memory now but whenever I felt down, I did my best to keep it fresh in my mind. A babysitter would watch over me when my parents were gone. She would bring her makeup kit and too-small-for-her dresses. 

    We would dress up in those outfits and I would let her put the makeup on me, trying new things she would think of. We would watch fashion shows and stay up later than my bedtime to observe Paris Fashion Week. This babysitter taught me makeup basics. 

    As I grew up, nothing felt right. That memory was the only thing that really helped. As soon as I was old enough, I stopped seeing that babysitter. I stopped remembering what she looked like. It wasn't until after I graduated high school that I realized just what I wanted. I knew I needed to find where I belonged. 

    Working two jobs was easy when one was easily hidden. Afternoons were spent working at a sports bar, the rest of the night spent dancing in go go boots. I finally had began to feel right. 

    At home, things were harder to deal with. I stayed out of the house very often. I didn't want to converse with my mom or my dad every hour. They already had an issue with sleeping in late and getting home at early hours of the morning. I couldn't explain to them how everything good happened after midnight. 

    When my mom found my stash of makeup, things went downhill. She couldn't believe that I had brought that into her house, when when I tried to claim it was a friend's. In front of my eyes, she destroyed all of it, grounding me and in the same breath threatening me. 

    I spent that night in my car. The next was spent crying in my friend's arms. 

    I will forever be grateful for the friends who helped me get back onto my feet. They helped me understand things about myself. They helped me find who I was. 

    The club where I worked was a huge support. I kept dancing and having fun, helping those who came in looking lost. I helped others find who they were. Doing that, having fun, and living life was proving to me that I was closer to where I belong. 

    That happiness wouldn't last too long. My mom had found out where I worked during those late nights. She wasn't happy and forced me home. I wish the ride home had been quiet. 

    It was hours that she screamed at me. Makeup was smeared on my cheeks as I cried. The outfit I had crafted with love and pride was ripped by her hands. She wanted to keep me in the house, lock me in the room that had once been mine. 

    I was able to get out when she went in search of scissors. Some friends were waiting for me, having started to make plans on getting me out. 

    Instead of going home, I begged them to go back to the club. So we did. We went back to the club. My spirits lifted quickly. The club was filled with screamed lyrics of songs we played. The floor felt shaky as we jumped around. 

    Fuck whatever others thought or whatever they were saying. We kept on dancing. 

    I had found where I belonged.