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My Name is Dorian, but I am also “beautiful.”


I have been told that I am “beautiful” for a while. I knew what pretty was, but “beautiful”… well, I could not really understand that one. I responded every single time for a while, “I’m not beautiful, I Dorian.” My Mama and Daddy laughed at me, but I was serious. I know who I am… I AM DORIAN.

The other day, though, my sister Adalyn took me upstairs to her room, and she put me in some of her dress clothes that she is too big for now. I tried on dress after dress, and Adalyn called down to my Mama and told her that she couldn’t come up to see what we were doing. Mama usually won’t listen to that one because it can mean trouble, but this time she waited for the surprise.

Then we tried it… the most fancy white dress that looked like a princess dress. It was a teeny bit big on me, but it was just the right one. Adalyn smoothed out my hair and brushed it, and then she put on the finishing touch, blue clip-on earrings that made me just like the princesses that I watch. I felt so very pretty.

When I walked down those stairs, just like a princess would in my fancy shoes and earrings and dress, I felt different. I felt so very grown up and big, but I did not know the word for how I felt.

Then Adalyn said it. She said, “Look Mama, doesn’t Dorian look so beautiful?” My Mama said, “Oh Dorian, you are so very beautiful. You look like a princess.” For the first time, I did not argue back. I knew what it meant, and I was… I was beautiful, just like the flowers outside and the stars in the sky. Beautiful is how you feel. Beautiful is flowers and trees and sunshine and mountains and water. Beautiful is me. I am Dorian, and I am beautiful.


Now That I am a “Big Girl,” I Can Paint my Face Too.

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See me? That’s my “beautification” going on. That is my Mama’s fluffy makeup brush. Mama uses it in the morning when she is getting ready for her day along with other things that paint her face a little and make it smoother looking. My Mama says that it makes her look less tired from running after me and more “alive.” You are always alive, Mama, so I don’t get that, but I know why you want to be fancy. I always want to be fancy with necklaces and bracelets and pretty clothes with my favorite characters, and I can even dress up like Supergirl sometimes and be really, really fancy. (Poor Mama, she doesn’t have a Supergirl costume, so she has to settle for regular clothes and be fancy with jewelry and makeup. She says she is not a fancy girl, though, so I guess she doesn’t mind.)

When my Mama gets ready, I get ready too. I brush my teeth with her, sometimes trying to steal her toothbrush instead of using my little Yoda one, and I brush my hair with her and get a little “scrunchie” in my hair so that I won’t look “like a sheepdog” as Mama says. I say, “out of the eyes” to let her know that I am ready to get my hair pretty so that I can go and get busy messing it up again and again.

The last thing Mama does is put on makeup. She says “not too much” because she says that you just want to put on enough to look a bit brighter like the stars in the sky, but you don’t want to shine like the big moon that’s up there. I want to be the moon though, so when I get hold of Mama’s lipstick, and I have, I put it on at least 3 times in a row just to make sure that I have it exactly right. I am not good at aim yet, though, so Mama has to clean up my face art a bit after I am done.

The brush thing is for your whole face, and she calls what she puts on bronzer. She says it is “just that little glow to make you shine.” Well I like shining, and I shine all of the time just by being me, but I want to be sparkly, too. Mama puts a teeny bit on the brush, and then I put it on just like my Mama. I want to do everything just like her since I am learning, but I want to do it myself. I dab and swirl and make face art, and then Mama tells me that I am “beautiful.” I love the sound of that word. I am beautiful, and so is Mama even without the skin stuff that she puts on. I like her best at night when I wake up and I am sad. She doesn’t have makeup on then, but when she snuggles me to sleep, she is at her most beautiful I think. Makeup isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be… snuggling is beauty.

That said, I still like the sparkly face stuff, and I will keep putting it on just like Mama, and I will be a sparkly, beautiful, happy me.