I Can Hear You, Jenny

I am NOT Jenny, but I know one. Yeah, I definitely know one pretty damn well. She makes my life a living hell every single day. Jenny is the reason I’m stuck in this place. Jenny made me this way. I hear Jenny’s voice all the time. It’s like nails on a chalkboard. And then one day, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I told someone about Jenny, what she was saying and doing to me. And I ended up here. Perfect little Jenny. Always telling me to straighten up. Always telling me to make my hair look a little nicer, to do my make–up a little better. But I can’t help it. I can’t change who I am. I wish I had never heard from Jenny. I wish Jenny had never existed. Then, there would be nothing to compare myself to. Then, I wouldn’t be stuck in this shit hole, where everyone thinks I’m crazy because Jenny talks to me. I’m not crazy. Her eyes would stare daggers at me from those magazine covers. I could hear her voice. I really could…now, I’m just trying to shut her up.

I’m Not Jenny

I’m not captain of the cheerleading squad. I’m not Homecoming queen. I’m not even seen. Nope. I never have been. I don’t have long, beautiful hair. I don’t have a lot of money. I’m not the best student in my class. I don’t have nice teeth. No, actually, I have braces. They’re hideous. I’m not tall and thin. I don’t party on the weekends. I don’t go on dates. Boys don’t even notice me. I don’t get a call from a friend asking me to go see a movie or get a bite to eat. My weekends consist of sitting home babysitting my little brother, walking the dogs, and doing homework. Oh, yeah, and spending hours trying to figure out how to be pretty and popular. I haven’t been too successful though. Jenny. Oh, how badly I want to be like Jenny! When she passes in the hall, it’s like a celebrity walks by. Me? When I walk by, no one even notices. I’m not Jenny. Nope. Not me. It seems that no matter how hard I try, I never will be. Well, at least not until my acne clears up, I can get rid of my glasses, and I can tame my wild, frizzy hair.

I’m definitely not a Jenny, but I’ve lived with a Jenny, and I’ve tried to act like a Jenny before, but why? It’s so expensive to be a Jenny. Jenny buys new clothes every season because she tires of old ones (one season old that is). Jenny obsesses over being skinny, going to the gym, being hott. I’ve caught Jenny running off to the bathroom after dinner and flushing away a very pricey filet mignon. Jenny gets electrolysis and dreams about the day when she’ll finally schedule her breast augmentation. People think that being Jenny is so great; that Jenny is so funny, beautiful, and lucky. The funny thing is Jenny wants to believe that herself and sometimes even tricks herself into believing it. Only, Jenny clearly isn’t happy with herself or her appearance. She puts her body, bank account, and reputation on the line for it.

Just read And I'm Not Jenny for a class. I loved it. Here is what I wrote.

Jenny told me I should grow my hair longer, so I wouldn’t be mistaken for a boy. I don’t have silky hair like Jenny. Jenny told me that I should grow my hair and brush it every night, like this. And then Jenny brushes her hair, in the cafeteria so all the boys can see what it would be like to run their hands through her long silky hair. Jenny doesn’t actually tell me to grow my hair. Jenny has never talked to me. She tells her friends that the” it” in the girls’ locker room should grow it’s hair so that it actually looks like a girl. Jenny is never mistaken for a boy. She wears a training bra and no one in our grade even has boobs yet. I went into Jenny’s locker and stole her hair brush when she was in gym. I put it in the toilet in the girls’ locker room.

Oh How Nice For Her...

Jenny always had it easier than me. She didn't have to move from town to town because of parental struggles with jobs, unlike me. She didn't have to share a room with two siblings growing up, unlike me. She didn't have to steal food to eat, unlike me. She didn't have to wear make-up if she didn't want to, a natural beauty, unlike me. She didn't have to work two jobs to help pay rent through high school, unlike me. She didn't have to get fucked from behind to feel any sort of connection with another sexually, unlike me. She didn't have to grin and bear the embarrassment of abuse marks from men in her life, unlike me. She didn't have to settle with marrying someone she didn't love strictly to support the baby within her womb, unlike me.But one way or another, things work themselves out. Fuck you Jenny.