I'm going to hell. At least that is what my mother told me the last time I saw her. "You're going to hell for making yourself into a Harlot to seduce men." Well, maybe she was half right.

On my 18th birthday, I woke up, picked up my already packed bags and left. It took me 3 years to get where I wanted to be--a place of my own, a good wardrobe, and learn how to look good. I went to the local beauty school and learned how to apply my makeup. My mother would never allow us to wear any, but when I left home and had a job, I paid to know how to look my best.

Do you know what makeup looks best?? Makeup applied so it looks like you don't have any one--covering the imperfections and blending your natural tones together, a slight blush to the cheeks, a slight accent at the eye, and elongate the lash. Maybe a pair of colored contacts to brighten the eyes, and to top it off... lips. Plump or not, easily inviting or bold. I like to plump and be bold--red, full lips that invite those bold enough to kiss.

I left home because I didn't want to be the asexual being my mother thought girls should be. When I looked in the mirror I could see I have all the basic parts God gave me, and they are definitely put in the right places and proportions. Why hide in a smock that makes me look like a sack of potatoes??

5" heels, garters, stockings, and a little black knit tube dress... some gold to dangle... and plump red lips and I'm ready for a night out.

I'm out there. I already know I'm going to hell, but I'm enjoying the ride.