The medium of the artwork that represents my identity is a white wall in which various pictures and objects describing my first year of High School are displayed. The very first object that is hung up is a picture of me when I had just turned twelve years old during the summer. I was wearing overalls with a purple t-shirt, Velcro sneakers and a Velcro watch. Two ponytails kept my light brown hair tied up so that only my bangs covered a part of my eyes. I had no makeup on whatsoever, and I was holding on to one of my old teddy bears, smirking. The next object was a picture of me on my first day at High School. I was wearing my new uniform that must have been three sizes too big. A very long navy blue skirt that fell under my knees and the white socks went just above my knee. The white t-shirt stopped at my elbows and it had our College’s logo. I was smiling on that picture, just beaming with joy because I was finally old enough to go. Following the picture are about a thousand tiny butterflies painted directly on the white wall, representing the nervousness I felt that very day. Black smoky shadows are circling the butterflies causing the nervousness. The shadows represent the older girls who would pick on the first years. After the first week of school it had been clear to me that I had to change. The following objects and images slowly became blurry because I no longer knew who I was and what I was supposed to be. Then, another picture is hung up on the wall. If you stare at it long enough, you will realize that it is a picture of my face but it no longer looks natural. Mascara and eyeliner have been added to the eyes, lip gloss to the mouth and blush on the cheeks. My facial expression is a mixture of uncertainty and unease. A magazine cover of ELLE is next to the picture. On the cover, we see a model with tight, low cut jeans, fire red stilettos, and a v-neck shirt that stopped just above the belly button revealing a pierced belly button. I had admired that model so much, and all the other skinny and stylish ones, that I wanted to be just like her and every other girl who made it in magazines. Therefore, the light brown ponytails transformed themselves into blond streaked straightened hair, the overalls were replaced by a mini skirt with a tight t-shirt that also revealed my stomach. I had thrown the Velcro sneakers away and started to wear stilettos of my own. The finishing touch was getting my belly button pierced as well. A scale is now hammered to the wall. It has quadruple digits numbers and a single word is written above the scale in large, bold letters. OBESE. My weight was nothing like the ones in the magazines. My thighs were too big, my stomach didn’t stick in, so I decided to cut off protein, sugars and flour. I had lost a lot of weight, but it was never enough. I could still read those bold letters above my scale. The last object is a mirror without a reflection. I could not see myself because I no longer had my own identity. I had society’s identity. The innocent and childish Alexandra was replaced by an underweight child who tried to grow up too fast.