I grew up in a religious family in the Philippines. We weren't allowed to go "dancing" in anyway, which is why I never asked for permission to go to prom. I hated prom season. Everyone kept on bragging about their dresses, their makeups, their dates, and I was not having any of it. I lived near my school, and when prom day came, I can hear the music from my own house. I was heartbroken and on the verge of bawling my eyes out. I felt really out of place the Monday after the prom. They were all talking about how romantic their dances were, and how pretty they looked. I pretended to feel sick for 3 days, just so I could skip all the "prom" talk everyone was having. It was the worst memory of my Junior year.
One year later. It was prom season again. This time, I didn't care much. I talked to them about their dresses and makeups, and their dates, and the program. I didn't mind. I was happy for them. I even volunteered to help out with ideas and decorations. When prom day arrived, I was driving around town with my mom. We passed by the school and we could hear the music from the car. She looked at me, and asked me if I wanted to go to prom. I was surprised and in complete disbelief. We hurried home, found the best dress we could find, I didn't even have time to put on make up, and then she drove me to the party. She told me she'll pick me up at 12 midnight, and "NO DANCING." Of course I danced a little, ate a lot, talked to my friends. Even thought I didn't have pictures to immortalize that night, I will never forget that brown worn-out dress I wore, or the golden headband I clipped on my hair, and the music I danced to for 2 hours. I will never forget how my mom empathized with me that night, how she realized I needed to have that kind of memory with me for the rest of my life. It was one of my most treasured senior memories (even though it only lasted until midnight.)
Created: Apr 22, 2014verniedee Document Media