After three weeks of dread, it was finally time to go to Paris. I packed up my bags and got ready for the plane ride. I put on a comfy pair of sweatpants and one of my dad's sweatshirts over one of my many black spaghetti-strap tops. It was my standard outfit. Sometimes I switched my dad's sweatshirt out for one of his t-shirts, but other than that it stayed the same. 

I grabbed my suitcase, which was a medium size and turquoise, and hauled it down the stairs. 

Of course, Annalyn was waiting for me. 

"Come on Hazel Rose! We have to get going if you're going to catch the plane!" She demanded loudly, like usual.

"Annalyn, I'm coming!" I yelled back.

"Okay," she said while skipping around merrily. 

At least someone is excited about this trip.

My thoughts were interrupted by Annalyn grabbing my bag and prancing to the car, then running back and dragging me to the car.

The ride was long. Annalyn was talking to my mom about how excited she was, until my mom asked me a question.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Are you excited?" My mom asked again.

"Yeah!" I feigned enthusiasm. 

"Great!" My mom exclaimed, enthusiasm dripping from her voice.

I was terrified. 

All these people are going to do is judge my body. They say my boobs are too big, that I am overweight, and the sad thing is that I believe them.

My mom and Annalyn say I'm beautiful, but I can't help but wonder about the girls in pictures.

I hate myself every day for it, but I want to be like them.

I want to be like them.