Take a Look At Yourself

When I was fourteen, I stared at myself for the first time. I looked at myself in the mirror and carefully took stock of everything I hated about myself. My body was too small, no hips or breasts. Despite years of soccer, my legs were far too skinny and I'd never have an ass. My nose was crooked from breaking it, and my eyebrows were gross. My lips were too thin and my hair was far too short for me to ever look like a girl. The only part of me I liked were my blue-gray eyes. They were so deep, so magnetic.

When I was sixteen, I looked at myself again. Over two years, I had learned to love more of myself. I was finally gaining an ass and boobs. My calf muscles had settled in; I'm sure track played some part in this. My thighs were starting to look strong, and my hips were beginning to take shape. I still hated every part of my face except those eyes. They saw more now; they saw so much more.

When I was eighteen, I was back at that mirror. Now I had a butt and boobs that were right for my frame size. I suddenly was filling out my shorts and managed to get into a C cup bra. It wasn't much, but I liked it. My legs had never looked better, even if they were as pale as shit. My cheekbones had come in, and I liked that and my eyes. The rest of my face, I would take away. Especially with all those damn freckles.

When I was twenty, I took stalk of my body. I loved what it looked like. My legs were toned, my hips were there, and I was definitely a muscular-looking woman. My lips had grown over the course of two years, and it was another thing I loved about my face. My nose was still crooked, I imagined it always would be.

Now, at twenty-two, I stared at my reflection. It had taken me eight years, but I loved that woman looking back at me. She was a hot, confident young lady with a kick-ass body and a beautiful face. Add in all those tattoos, and I was finally feeling like myself. I loved each of my fifteen tattoos, and I loved that they made me feel like I was becoming the person I wanted to see in the mirror. This was Carmen. This was who I wanted to be.

"Carm!" Heather's voice sounded from across the locker room. "We get it! You're hot as shit, but can you fucking put your cleats on so we can go to practice?"

I turned and laughed. "Sorry, girl." I quickly laced my boots up and ran onto the field. We may have been a three-time championship team, but we still had to share our field with the football team. What our game field was, was their practice field. I had to fight not to roll my eyes.

"No fighting today, Carmen," Coach Anderson said, "You know what Coach Greggs said last time. If you fight another one of his players, he will find a way to get you off the team."

I rolled my eyes at that. "He's not my coach, you are. If you want me off the team, you'll kick me off."

"Watch the attitude, Harrison." He threw a ball at me. "Get them warmed up."

A smile spread on my face. "STRETCH CIRCLE!" Instantly, twenty girls surrounded me as we started in on our stretches. We may not have had many resources, but we always played like we were the top players. And we were. We had won nationals twice and state three times. For a lot of this team, it was our last time to play. We wanted to be in the best shape of our young lives. This was time to be national champions three years in a row. This was the time to leave our legacy.

"HEADS UP!" A football bounced into our circle, hitting me in the back of my head. The girls gasped as my knees hit the grass.

"FUCK!" I instantly covered my mouth with my hand. We weren't supposed to cuss on the field. My eyes met Heather's as I slowly picked up the football. If they stupid football team just wouldn't play on our field, none of this would be a problem.

"Harrison, watch the mouth." Coach looked at me as he finished setting up the cones. "And be nice when you give back that ball."

"Yeah, yeah." I jogged over to the football boys. Half of them were shirtless, the Texas heat getting to them.

"Thanks for bringing that back," the quarterback, Zeke, said.

I grimaced at them. "Hit me again, you'll learn how much stronger soccer players are." I flipped them off and headed back to our stretch circle. Why did every season start off the same with this damn school?

Notes

New story. Thoughts??