The first time I saw him was a bright spring day, he walked past the window I was daydreaming out of, bathed in sunshine and unlike anyone I had ever seen before. Dressed in colourful clothes he looked confident and happy, suddenly flushed, I squirmed in my seat; short, fat, and ugly, he was everything I was not. I watched from the shadowy classroom wide eyed as he passed, miserable I turned back to the lesson I was missing, feeling a renewed sense of insignificance.

It’s difficult to explain how being insignificant feels, it was like having a worm in the pit of my stomach which spent all day eating my confidence and self-worth. I was not fat, at this point, but I felt it. Puberty came early to the girls in my family, along with weight gain, boobs, spots, greasy hair, and mood swings. I will never know if I was ugly, but I had overheard Mother telling a neighbour I was, so I believed it to be true. She said, “I hope Shelly has some brains as she doesn’t have any looks, with those teeth and big lips.” I had been eve-dropping and it broke my young heart to know she thought I was ugly.

I was 13 when he walked like a colourful Jesus past my classroom window. I thought about him after he was gone from view, how happy he looked, the way he dressed, and the way he walked all seemed joyful. I wore practical, sensible clothes bought by Mother from M&S and had never really thought too much about them. But, as I relived watching him strolling carelessly by, totally at ease, an awareness flooded through me, there were other ways to dress, other ways to look, other ways to be. This revelation was so intense I was changed by it, a shift occurred in my core, and I spent the next few months reinventing myself. I was no longer content to be a greasy, fat caterpillar sitting in the shadows at the back of the class. I was going to be a butterfly, maybe I was not a natural beauty but after seeing him I realised there were other ways to attract attention and if I could do it perhaps someone would notice me, like me, possibly even love me, my heart sang. My first purchase was a black T-shirt with ‘I’m Sexy’ emblazoned in sequins across the front. My parents freaked out when they saw it and I was told never to wear it again. I chose a middle ground, a place I would frequent often, and only wore it when they were not around to see.