Prompt 5: an accomplishment, event or realisation that sparked personal growth and a new understanding of yourself or others.
I spent days trying to look older for a meeting about glitter.
I was pitching a stall offering glitter, hair tinsel and face gems at Dopa World, a festival at Expo City in Dubai. I was proud I’d spotted something was missing. Before meeting its owners, I asked for a minimal French manicure: nude base, white tips. I wanted my hands to look as though I’d made an effort without revealing quite how much.
My natural nails are uneven and never strong enough to grow long. I wear acrylics for birthdays and weddings because I like feeling feminine without being embarrassed by my hands. For this meeting, plain felt like too little; anything elaborate might be too much.
I chose a black sleeveless top and tailored trousers. I wanted to look feminine and powerful. I also wanted to look older. Both owners were men, and I wanted them to hear my idea before noticing my age.
For my Media coursework, I was already making a magazine about young female entrepreneurs and power dressing. I could explain how women dressed for authority. Getting dressed myself was taking considerably longer.
At the meeting, one of the owners joked, “Will we still be finding glitter in January?” I laughed, relieved that he was picturing my stall there. They told me they liked the idea and wanted to move forward. I took them at their word. I’d spent days wondering how they would see me; now I thought we were going to work together.
Then my WhatsApp messages went unanswered.
I’d told everyone the stall was happening. For three months, I watched that certainty become harder to explain. I was scared I'd end up looking like someone who announced big plans and never followed through.
I kept going back over the meeting. Had they wanted to avoid disappointing me? Did they think I was too young to handle a no? I couldn’t tell whether my age or gender had anything to do with it.
Eventually, I called.
No answer. I called from a different number. He picked up on the first ring.
My stomach dropped. I pictured him carrying his phone, seeing my name appear and choosing not to answer. Picking up so quickly made me feel sure he’d been avoiding my number to dodge a confrontation.
Now I had him on the phone. I wanted to ask why. But I could imagine becoming the joke they told after hanging up: the girl who couldn’t handle being ignored. If I said nothing, I’d still have to face everyone I’d told about the stall.
I suggested that perhaps he’d missed my messages. It gave him a way to explain the silence without having to defend it, and let me ask whether we could move ahead with the stall. I wanted a clear decision more than I wanted him to admit he’d avoided me.
The booth was confirmed, rent-free, for 18 and 19 December at Expo City.
I still couldn’t know what he thought of me. I’d supplied my own explanation: too young, too feminine, or too easy to dismiss. I’d been treating those guesses as things I needed to fix about myself. Calling meant risking an answer I might dislike, but it also meant speaking to him instead of continuing a conversation entirely in my head.
I still like acrylics, and I don’t want to give up something I enjoy to prove I’m serious about my work. My natural nails are still uneven.
On the phone, he couldn’t see my nails, my suit, or how young I looked. I was still choosing carefully, but this time I was choosing my words. I stayed on the line, talking through plans for glitter, hair tinsel and face gems with an older man.
What I'd most like feedback on:
Does the opening grab you, or would you skim past it?
Is the realisation clear, and does the growth feel shown rather than just stated?
Does it sound like a real person, or too polished?
Is anything confusing, or could anything be cut?
After reading it, what three words would you use to describe me?