Daily Prompt: Nice Is as Nice Does

Tell us about the nicest thing you’ve ever done.

There isn’t one particular moment that stands out in my mind, as in one that stands out more than the other. All through my life I’ve done nice things for people, even when it’s completely unexpected. I’ve spent so much of my life being so humble, and always putting other people before myself, and usually it’s because I view it as being nice, or doing the right thing.

I remember once when I was dancing competitively, I used to compete against this one particular girl, and I used to always beat her in one particular event. Regardless of the fact that she would always see me at every comp she went to, she would still continue to get up on the floor, throw daggers at me just before the music started, and off we would go in a flurry of lycra and sequins. At the end of the day when we’d have our medal presentations, they’d announce our particular event and we’d find each other in the crowd and just look at each other. Every time they called my name, she’d sigh and look defeated and deflated and then from across the room, slowly clap in a sarcastic manner.

This one particular comp, we had the same situation, except during the second (and final) round, I’d been tapped out, and was standing on the sides watching the rest of the competitors. She noticed again that I’d been tapped out, and began to look quite frustrated. After the end of that round, the adjudicators were scribbling away on their clipboards, and the competitors all went back to their dressing areas. I saw this, and thought I’d do something really nice. I waited until they went back to the results table, and I pulled one of them aside and announced to her that I wanted to forfeit my position.

It was kind of a blind move. I just assumed that that girl was going to be announced as second place. Did I know that for a fact? No. Did I know for a fact that I was even going to win? No, but I just assumed that I would, given previous history. I went and continued with the rest of my events and then waited until the medal presentation. Was that very cocky of me to think that? Absolutely.

When they got to our event, as always, we locked eyes, and they made an announcement, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen due to the voluntary forfeit of competitor number (whatever my number was), we have a new winner. In first place, competitor number (whatever her number was)…’ Everybody cheered. All the other dancers from her dance school screamed the house down. She gave me a puzzled look and I mouthed out congratulations to her, then got up and walked outside.

It felt good to do something like that, especially when I got to see how incredibly happy she was, and how proud all her school was of her. I didn’t do any of it for me, I did it for her. If anything, I got my arse handed to me by some of the other girls from my dance school. They were beside themselves that I would even consider doing that.

Bitch, please. It’s not about you, or the school – this is about me and her, and letting her have her moment of glory that she has so desperately craved for so long. It felt really good seeing her so happy.


Daily Prompt: Mirror, Mirror

Look in the mirror. Does the person you see match the person you feel like on the inside? How much stock do you put in appearances?

Let’s just get this out of the way right now… I hate the way I look.

I don’t like my stupid hair, I hate my stupid skin, I hate my nose. I’ve spent so much money on different products for both my hair and my skin, and nothing seems to really work, and it drives me crazy. Why does it have to be so difficult to want to moisturise my skin effectively? Everybody says their products will achieve this, but they don’t. 😦

Do I look like the person I feel I am?? I think that it’s a bit of identity confusion – I know that I’m a bitch, and I know that people see me as a bitch. I know that I’m funny, and I know that people see that I’m funny. I know that I’m nice and I know that people sometimes see me as nice (I really should work on that one a bit more!). Does the outside reflect the different versions of me on the inside – I’m not really sure.

How much stock do I put in appearances?? Well, do you mean mine, or other peoples? I’m not going to lie, I can’t help but judge people based on what they’re wearing (because I’m a judgemental bitch like that), and yet at the same time, most of the time I really don’t give a crap what I’m wearing whenever I leave the house. I live in the western suburbs – compared to a lot of the people I see at the local shopping centre, simply because I’m wearing shoes makes me feel over-dressed by comparison.