The big day has arrived, and even though I have complete faith in my mother's design abilities, I can not help but feel nervous. I have seen the design before, but when I look in the mirror, I cannot help but admire the dress. It’s a light lavender dress with a sweetheart neckline and a thin laced strap to keep it in place—my mom knows I was never gifted in the frontal area. The skirt is a flare shape, with the hemline ending perfectly a few centimeters from the floor. Most of the beadwork is at the neckline and waist since the material used for the skirt is chromatic. It shines perfectly on its own. My mother didn’t want me to look too mature so my hair is left in a side loose braid. “Perfect!” My mother enters the dressing room just as I finish clasping dangling earrings in my ears. I shy away from the mirror at how my mother is continuously gushing at me and my outfit. “Darling, you look wonderful! Of course, I expect no less from my daughter, who carries my perfect genes!” “N