Red Lipstick | Nilsa Rivera
When I was twelve years old, I developed an altered identity. Not Dissociative Identity Disorder, but a consciously crafted personality called Lisa created by the mind of a distraught girl. Lisa was all things I wasn’t. Brave and angry, Lisa spoke her mind. She did all the naughty things good Catholic Puerto Rican girls didn’t do. While Nilsa cared about what her family thought of her, Lisa didn’t. Lisa was fierce, emotional, and bold.
Recently I read I’m Yours by Reema Zaman, a beautiful memoir of womanhood as experienced by a woman of color. Reema’s voice of self-love is always within her and often ignored at a painful cost. My eternal voice is a voice of rebellion and masculine protest. For years, I battled with Lisa’s voice, forever struggling with her strength, desires, anger, and the moral dilemma presented by her existence. Lisa never listened to me. When I followed, I did because I knew Lisa was partly me and I was partly her.
One day, Lisa wanted red lips to kiss a boy at school. After school, I went into town convinced by the insistent nag of Lisa’s voice.
“Let’s go. Remember that pharmacy a couple of blocks from here,” Lisa said silently but excited in my mind. In the small town of San Lorenzo, the hilly and narrow roads offered enough room for two people to run. “Come on! Jump over the lines on the floor. Run! We’re free.”
“Mami said to go back home right after school,” I responded.
“Oh, come on! She won’t even notice.”
While I thought about it, Lisa continued her proposal. “We can go to Papi’s job. It’s nearby. We’ll go home with him.”
“I don’t want to get in trouble.” My shoulder slumped. I wanted to go home, sleep, read, or listen to music, or even better just hide in my room.
“You’re always whining, hiding, shrinking. Come on! Hey look who’s there,” Lisa screamed. “It’s Carmen. Let’s talk to her.” I shook my head. I was shy, Lisa wasn’t. Lisa moved toward Carmen anyways.
“Hey, Carmen. I’m going to the pharmacy. Wanna come?”
The petite girl said, “Yeah, I have to wait for my mom and she told me that she’s coming by after work. I hate waiting alone.”
I walked along Carmen, trying to calm Lisa’s excitement, always hoping people wouldn’t notice the debates that always brewed inside of me. Lisa jumped within me. “Let’s run. Enjoy the air.” If anyone sees us running, they’ll think we’re childish or crazy, No and shut up already, I thought forcefully, hoping to deter Lisa’s urges.
Lisa waited in the background of my mind until we arrived at the local pharmacy. The aisles were full of vitamins, fish oil bottles, cold and cough medication, and medical supplies. The pharmacist barely acknowledged us. We walked to the makeup and hair products aisle. A full row of lipsticks, eyeshadows, eyeliners, face creams, and lotions. And many other products women deem necessary to qualify as beautiful, pretty, young, and desirable. All products we couldn’t afford.
I stopped in front of the lipsticks. Soft pink, fuschia pink, nude, brown, orange, tan, burgundy, plum, and there it was: red. The bright red lipstick that spelled bold and available to play. The blood red Lisa wanted to make the statement. Fire red that ignited passion in boys and men alike and that Lisa could use to control the reactions of such boys. She could use it to tempt boys and then rejected them telling them they were too young for her. Too stupid. No, you will not touch me unless I want to. She could draw them in and then lash out screaming. “Get away from me, stupid.” Anger subconsciously directed at the man who had raped her only a year before and that even if he had been arrested and sentenced, his mark was on her like a branded cow. I could hear Lisa laughing in the background.
The intended target was a boy who dated one of the prettiest girls at school. Through flirts and glances, he had called me a bitch when I said I didn’t want him to pat my shoulder. He had put his hand on my shoulder and wiped his hand down my back. When it happened, Lisa told me to scream at him but I was too scared and embarrassed. So revenge is what Lisa told me we would have. “I don’t think we should do this.” Sometimes, I forgot I couldn’t talk to Lisa aloud if people were around me.
Carmen was still next to me. “Do what?” she asked.
“Nothing.” I bit my lips.
Carmen looked at the lipstick my eyes were glued on. For a fleeting second, I wished Carmen looked at me with an evil warning facial expression that meant don’t take it. Instead, she shrugged and grabbed a pink nail polish, holding it low and near her uniform skirt that looked like mine but longer. I always rolled mine up.
I grabbed the lipstick and put it in my pocket. Then I glanced at the pharmacist who was busy with a line of customers. I walked toward the wall-sized window near the hairsprays and other hair products that called my attention. I grabbed the white and pink Suave hairspray can and stuffed it in my bookbag. Lisa screamed, “Yes, bitch. About time you got some balls. Hurry up! Close the zipper. Now just walk out. Come on let’s go.”
“Oye, tu nena. Que tu tienes ahi?” The pharmacist yelled as he rushed down the aisle.
“Oh no!” I tried to walk out but he grabbed my book bag and pulled me backward.
“Esperate.” We were caught.
The man pulled me back into the pharmacy. Carmen started crying.
Lisa said in my head. “Stupid cry baby. Don’t you dare cry, Nilsa. Fuck that! Don’t you whine either.” Lisa cussed, I didn’t. I took a deep breath. Even if Lisa was crazy, she had been right about a lot of things. Crying never solved anything.
Eventually, Papi and Carmen’s mother were called to the pharmacy. Both parents embarrassed apologized while screaming at us.
Lisa coached me through. “Don’t you cry. Say you’re sorry. Don’t say anything about the lipstick, bitch. Calm down. We got this.” My heartbeat was speeding. My chest wanted to break. I wanted to run. Lisa continued. “Lift your chin up. Breathe. Say you’re sorry. Appeal to Papi’s sweet side. Smile. Plead and praise him. He likes that.”
I made it home. Lisa’s voice was louder than Mami and Papi’s voices. I felt embarrassed; I was sorry. Lisa wasn’t. After hours of scolding, I was sent to my room. I stood in front of the mirror and shook my head. How can I be two people at the same time?
“I am your mask. Your shield. Look,” she said and pulled the red lipstick out of my pocket. The lipstick slid softly along my lips. “You see, how beautiful we look.”
Originally published at https://www.nilsawrites.com on June 22, 2019.