You should all listen to Portugal The Man.
I watched a sales lady at a clothing store help a beautiful, skinny girl reach a very cute shirt. I didn’t think much about her - she looked like all the other girls at my high school who think they’re the greatest things on the planet because of their long, thick hair and small waists. After giving it to her, I walked up to the sales woman and asked, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, if she wouldn’t mind reaching the same shirt in my size. She looked me up and down and sarcastically told me that she wasn’t sure any store would carry my size. She laughed it off, said she was only kidding, and proceeded to look for my size. I felt the blood rush to my face, I felt sick, and I could feel the tears biting at my eyeballs. As she was looking for my size, I couldn’t believe it - she was remarking how the fabric probably wouldn’t be very flattering on me, how the colour wouldn’t work well with my skin, how the style wouldn’t work with my body type. Of course, she threw her own sick form of optimism in when she said that maybe she was wrong and that she was sure I could somehow pull it off. I was just stunned, shamed, horrified.
Looking down at my feet I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that someone was standing nearby. I was now even more mortified knowing that someone had heard the saleslady so I tired to ignore it by pretending to be trying to find something in my purse. The person piped up suddenly and said “How dare you say something so rude to her.” I snapped my head away from my bag and to the voice to see that it was the skinny and beautiful girl I had seen before holding the shirt that the sales woman had gotten down for her. The sales lady turned around, looked at her, and laughed, claiming she was only joking. The girl’s voice quivered and I realized that she was fighting back tears. “This girl is beautiful and is not defined by what she looks like or what she looks good in or what kind of style she has. How dare you degrade her like that.” I wish I had had a camera or voice recorder so I could remember everything she said to the woman. With tears streaming down her red face, the girl went on and on leaving me absolutely speechless. I couldn’t believe it. The look on her face, the look on the woman’s face, the look on other customer’s faces. When she was finished she walked up to me, looked me right in the eye, and told me that I was absolutely beautiful and worth more than I knew. She told me that I should never let the people of this world define me and that I was meant for so much more. Then she put the shirt on a nearby rack and walked out.
Never again will I judge so quickly. I’m sorry to everyone that have been victims of my judgement.