Why My Parents Grounded Me From My Clothing

What would you do If your daughter stopped wearing color?

I was 12 years old, I was dealing with a lot of crap. The bullying got way out of control! I had no self-esteem.
My parents were never very supportive or loving,
I really liked this guy at the age of 13, He didn’t like me back. Throughout my life, I was told to never give up.
.. Boy did I take that out of context.

I followed him around, and annoyed him continuously. He begged me to leave him alone. After a while he couldn’t stand it anymore, So he started to hit me. His friends joined in, They all hit me.
Sometimes they spit on me, poured their soda on me, Hit me with branches, threw rocks at me.
But you know “Don’t give up”. So instead of taking the hint, Like most women would. I continued being around that.
Things just got worse. Going to a junior high that was highly diverse,
He did the unthinkable…
He spread a rumor about me... That I was racist. This made a lot of people justifiably angry!
I tried to deny it and explain to them, that it was impossible. But no one believed me. I was one of those loser kids you’d see in the hallway, and avoid at all costs.

The rumor made things even worse, I’d get beat up by groups of people after school, I didn’t even know many of those people. It escalated to the point I went to the police station and got photos taken and filed a report. That helped stop it a little bit.
I needed all of it to stop, I couldn’t take it anymore. I started leaving the guy alone. But I was still being tormented by people. It’s amazing how unforgiving teenagers are!
I had to come up with a plan, and fast. But I had no idea what to do. I went to the principal of the school, the counselors, and they weren’t whiling to help. There was one teacher that helped me, (more in another post).
My best friend really liked this boy named Daniel. He had very long black hair, which was obviously dyed. He wore black from head to toe. Like me, He also liked wearing jackets hiding his arms. He was handsome, But quite creepy. When he walked down the halls, He just looked like this tall black figure. People liked him, But people who didn’t already know him appeared to fear and avoid him. Surprisingly he wasn’t very noticeable in general. I never even noticed him until my friend pointed him out.

It gave me an idea, maybe the gothic style could help make people afraid of me…

I took all the black clothes from my closet and hid them, I stopped wearing them completely. As I earned money from mowing lawns, and cleaning, I saved it. Buying myself a shirt, and a pair of black jeans every now and then. But I refused to wear them, I stashed them in the back of my closet. I wanted to make the transition quickly, to have maximum impact on my enemies. Whenever my mom went to the store, She’d occasionally let me get something. I always chose something black.

When I finally had enough clothes, I got ready for school. Black jeans, Black boots, A short jacket that cut off from my ribcage, and a small shirt with a poem on it.

I went to school, Not only did I get compliments on my outfit from people, because I went from crappy falling apart, hand me downs, To a new black outfit. But people treated me very different. For once, I felt that I was worth something. I walked with a confidence I’ve never had before, Even my teachers were impressed by my outfit.
Some of the people who were putting me through that crap, Started to leave me alone. My friends looked up to me! It’s like I was able to turn my whole world upside down just by wearing the same color every day. But there were other problems arising. My parents noticed.
I was a teen at this point.

My parents didn’t know or understand anything.

My music tastes have always been alternative rock, But I was starting to like music with screaming as well! I also loved horror movies. My parents took notice but didn’t really say anything. I assumed they didn’t care.

One day me and my parents got in a fight on who should do the dishes, they spent days piling up and they got ridiculous. They were expecting us to all do them as a family, I didn’t think it was fair. So I ran out of the house. It was summer, I was wearing a short sleeve black shirt, and some black jeans, with black shoes. It was the middle of the day, and I ran over 8 miles. My parents didn’t come looking for me. Instead they went to my room, and took EVERYTHING! They even took the curtains. All of my clothes were the main target.
When I came home I was horrified. I begged for my clothes back, but they refused to give them to me. At that time I didn’t even own colored clothes anymore, I got rid of all of them. My closet was empty except for the outfit I left the house in.
My parents told me that they would buy me a whole new wardrobe, and they would get rid of my black clothes, My new wardrobe would only have colored clothes. I refused, Too much good has happened since I started wearing black. They assumed all of my behavior issues, my dark music and my love for horror movies was because of my black clothes. They literally blamed the CLOTHES! Because I didn’t want to be woken up by the light in the morning, I slept inside my dark closet. My room reminded me of a mental hospital at that point. My white walls, and white bed, other than that, I had nothing. They pretty much took everything away, while I ran away, Instead of finding me they spent that time taking my stuff!
A couple weeks went by,

I wore the same black outfit every day,

I would wash it,
Then use one of my parents old navy blue shirts as a skirt, Id slip it on through the neck, And use the neck as the waist band. I eventually found an extra black top, which I wore as pajamas. I carefully guarded my last black outfit, I’d wash my clothes in the shower, then take my outfit outside and sit outside with my outfit in the middle of the night while it dried. I didn’t have any more money to buy clothes with.

I could of stopped being stubborn at any point, But it didn't feel right.

After the second month, We were about to go for a camping trip. I told my mom I can’t really go because I have no clothes. At first she refused to give me my black clothes back, I kept begging, I literally had nothing to wear. I also worked so hard to get the clothes for myself in the first place. They were cheap, ## Walmart clothes but they meant the world to me. ##

Eventually I won her over and she gave me the keys to her car… The clothes were in the trunk! It was literally like Christmas morning I got all of my clothes back! I had won! My parents still tried to talk me out of wearing black, But they failed year after year. It’s something I’ve become so used to. I don’t even think about it anymore. At the age of 23, I wear the occasional colored shirt, But every day, I still wear all black! Wearing a specific color, doesn’t make you a bad person. My parents thought I was going down a bad pathway, But I hadn’t done anything terrible. I was never into drugs, drinking or having sex. I stayed away from all of that. Black saved me from an awful situation I got myself in. Because the adults that I tried to get help from weren’t there for me. Sometimes crazy ideas work out!