I Wanted to Be a Big Girl—I Ignored My Mum’s Advice… Now Look at Me.

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I Wanted to Be a Big Girl—I Ignored My Mum’s Advice… Now Look at Me

Mirabel Chuku was 17 years old, living with her mother, Mama Gloria, in a small two-bedroom apartment in Anugu. Their home was modest; the ceiling fans sometimes creaked as if weary from spinning, and their small fridge often struggled when the power went out. Yet, it was home. Mirabel was in SS2 and well-known at school for her beauty and intelligence. With soft brown skin, big sparkling eyes, and a slim figure, she turned heads, even among older boys.

But Mirabel felt different from most girls her age, or at least that’s what her mother believed. Mama Gloria often reminded her, “You are my only child. You must not follow the crowd. Your education is your husband. Don’t let anybody deceive you.” For a time, Mirabel listened. She would come straight home from school, help her mother wash bitter leaf, and do her assignments by the light of a torch. On weekends, she assisted Mama Gloria at the market. They didn’t have much, but Mama Gloria always found a way to make her daughter feel loved. “I didn’t go to school,” she’d say, “but you will.”

However, things began to change gradually. Every day on her way to school, Mirabel saw girls at the bus stop who didn’t wear uniforms like her. Their nails were long and painted, their phones shiny, their wigs flowing, and their clothes exuded expensive perfume. Boys chased them, and men slowed their cars to greet them. These girls laughed loudly, walked with confidence, and carried an air of royalty. Mirabel started to wonder what was so special about being a schoolgirl when the “big girls” outside looked like stars.

One day in class, she overheard a group of girls chatting about a party they attended the night before. One of them mentioned receiving ₦20,000 just for showing up. Mirabel’s ears perked up. “Wait,” she whispered to her seatmate, “people pay just to see you at a party?” Her friend smiled, “That’s small. Some girls get iPhones.”

That night, Mirabel couldn’t sleep. She stared at the ceiling fan above her bed and thought, “Maybe Mommy is too old-fashioned. Maybe she doesn’t understand how things work now.” Just like that, a seed was planted in her mind.

A few days later, Mirabel began watching the girls more closely. Their names were Chioma, Nancy, and Bimbo. They were always the center of attention, their school skirts tighter and shorter, their nails longer, their edges laid perfectly, and they always had money. They ordered snacks during breaks, brought secret phones to school, and wore perfumes that lingered long after they passed. Mirabel couldn’t help herself. One day after class, she approached Chioma, saying, “Your hair is so fine. Where did you do it?”

Chioma smiled. “Thanks, dear. I did it at a salon in New Haven. My guy paid for it.”

“Your guy?” Mirabel asked, intrigued. Chioma laughed, and Mirabel felt shy, unsure of what to say. The truth was, she had never even kissed a boy, but she didn’t want them to think she was a child.

That was how it started. The girls began inviting her to sit with them during lunch. At first, they teased her about her cheap shoes and lack of makeup, but over time, they offered to help her. Chioma brought her lip gloss, Bimbo gave her a pair of hoop earrings, and Nancy even offered one of her old wigs. “You’re too fine to be dulling,” Nancy said. “Let’s teach you how to be a real babe.”

Mirabel felt a thrill of excitement. It was as if she was finally entering another world—the world of big girls, the kind of girls people noticed. The kind of girls who didn’t have to worry about buying pads or begging for airtime. That week, she used her mother’s market change to buy pink nail polish. Then she lied to Mama Gloria, saying she had extra lessons, just so she could follow her new friends to a party.

She felt powerful, almost grown. But when she got home late that night, Mama Gloria was waiting at the door. The hurt in her mother’s eyes was deeper than any words could express. “Mirabel, I did not raise you like this,” Mama Gloria said softly.

Mirabel looked down, her heart pounding, but inside, a new voice whispered, “She just doesn’t understand. I’m not a child anymore.” With that thought, Mirabel took one more step away from her mother and closer to a life she didn’t fully grasp.

Mirabel changed quickly. After that night, she spent less time at home and more with Chioma and the others. She stopped helping her mother in the kitchen and began skipping homework, telling lies about staying back for group studies. But instead of studying, she was learning how to pose for pictures, fix her lashes, and speak boldly like the big girls.

One Saturday afternoon, Chioma invited her to a birthday party at a hotel in town. Mirabel told her mother she was going to a classmate’s house to study. She wore one of Bimbo’s tight dresses, hiding it in her bag. As soon as she got out of the house, she changed in a corner shop near the bus stop.

When she arrived at the party, her heart raced. There was loud music, flashing lights, and people drinking and dancing everywhere. Mirabel had never been in such a place before. She felt nervous but also excited. Then she saw him—a tall man in his 30s wearing a gold wristwatch and dark sunglasses, leaning against a black SUV outside the hotel. He was watching her. When their eyes met, he smiled.

Later, Chioma introduced him as Mr. K. He shook her hand and said, “You’re very beautiful. What’s your name?” Mirabel blushed. “Mirabel,” she replied. They talked for a few minutes. He bought her a drink and complimented her repeatedly, saying she didn’t need to suffer in life and that he could take care of her if she was smart. He told her she had the kind of face men would pay anything for.

Mirabel felt seen, important, and desired. At the end of the night, Mr. K handed her ₦10,000 for transport. It was the first time she had held that kind of money all at once. Her head spun. “Call me anytime,” he said, slipping his number into her hand.

When she got home, Mama Gloria was already asleep. Mirabel tiptoed into her room and looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were still glowing, her body smelled of perfume, and she smiled, whispering to herself, “This is the life I want.” Little did she know, that night marked the beginning of her biggest mistake.

After that night at the hotel, Mirabel and Mr. K began talking often. He would call her in the evenings, send her airtime, and sometimes money just for food. Within two weeks, she had bought a new wig and a small secondhand smartphone. Her friends were impressed. Chioma even said, “Now you’re finally shining like a real babe.”

Mr. K told her things she had never heard before—that she was too beautiful to waste her time in school, that school could wait but money couldn’t, and that real girls didn’t depend on their mothers forever. Mirabel started to believe him. She stopped going to school regularly. When Mama Gloria asked, she would say the school was on break or that she was sick. She even forged a school letter once, claiming they were having online revision for two weeks.

Mama Gloria, exhausted from market work, didn’t know what to think but felt something was wrong. One morning, she sat Mirabel down. “My daughter,” she said gently, holding her hand. “You’ve changed. You come home late, you lie, and you look different. I may not have gone to university, but I know when a child is walking into trouble. Please, Mirabel, come back. Don’t let this world deceive you.”

Mirabel pulled her hand away. “Mommy, I’m fine. You worry too much.”

“No,” Mama Gloria said, her voice shaking. “I worry because I love you. A mother knows when her child is going astray.”

Mirabel stood up. “Nothing is wrong with me. Just because you didn’t enjoy life doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.”

Tears filled Mama Gloria’s eyes, but she said nothing. Later that night, Mirabel went out again to meet Mr. K. He took her shopping, bought her peppered chicken and malt, and told her she was different from the rest. That night, she kissed him for the first time.

The following week, she stopped going to school completely. Her teachers tried to call her, but her number had changed. Mr. K had given her a new SIM card, saying, “You don’t need school stress. Just focus on looking beautiful. I’ll handle everything else.”

Mirabel smiled and nodded, but inside, a quiet voice whispered, “What if Mommy is right?” She ignored it, too busy enjoying the money, compliments, and the life. What she didn’t know was that life was about to teach her a lesson she would never forget.

It was a warm Friday afternoon when Mirabel received a message that made her heart skip. “I miss you. Come and see me today, Mr. K.” She read it over and over again. It was short, but it made her feel special, important, like she truly mattered to someone.

During break time, she showed the message to Chioma. Chioma grinned. “Eheen. So, it’s finally time. He wants to see you properly.”

Mirabel frowned a little. “What do you mean properly?”

Nancy leaned in. “Babe, you’ve been taking his money and gifts. Don’t you know what that means? He wants more than just talking.”

Mirabel felt her stomach twist. “I’ve never, you know, done anything like that,” she said quietly.

Chioma placed a hand on her shoulder. “Relax now. It’s not a big deal. We’ve all done it. You just need to act confident. Don’t show fear.”

Bimbo added, “After today, you’ll officially become a big girl. Trust us, nothing bad will happen. Just look pretty and don’t overthink it.”

That evening, Mirabel told her mother she was going to study at a friend’s house. Mama Gloria smiled and said, “All right, come back early. I’ve cooked your favorite rice and beans.”

Mirabel nodded, but something inside her felt tight. At Chioma’s place, the girls helped her get ready. They gave her a clean outfit—jeans and a top with shiny buttons. They styled her hair, applied light makeup, and sprayed her with sweet perfume. “You’re glowing,” Nancy said. “He won’t know what hit him.”

Mirabel tried to smile, but deep down, she felt nervous, as if she were about to step into a world she didn’t understand.

When she arrived at Mr. K’s apartment, he welcomed her warmly. His house was neat, quiet, and filled with the scent of air freshener and expensive cologne. He played soft music and brought her a cold drink. “You’re really beautiful,” he said gently. “I’m happy you came.”

They talked for a while. He asked about school, her friends, and her dreams. Mirabel smiled, though her mind raced. She kept wondering, “Is this really what big girls do?”

Then he touched her hand. Slowly, everything changed. The room felt smaller, and time seemed to slow. Before she could fully grasp what was happening, she found herself in a moment she wasn’t ready for. She didn’t cry or scream, but her heart felt heavy, and her chest tightened.

When it was over, she sat quietly, hands in her lap, trying to process everything. Mr. K handed her some money, saying, “You’re growing up fast. You’ll get used to it.” She nodded politely but didn’t say a word.

That night, when she got home, she rushed to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Same face, same eyes, but something felt different, like a part of her had gone quiet. She washed up quickly and went to bed. Mama Gloria knocked softly, asking if she was okay. “Yes, Mommy,” she replied. “Just tired.”

The next morning, Chioma and the girls treated her like a queen. “You did it,” Chioma said excitedly. “Now you’re one of us.” They hugged her, cheered, and declared she had entered the real big girls’ club. But Mirabel didn’t feel proud; she felt empty. She smiled on the outside, but inside, she wasn’t sure who she was anymore.

Days turned into weeks, and Mirabel continued to drift further from her mother and her studies. The thrill of being a “big girl” consumed her, but deep down, she felt a growing emptiness. The money, the attention, and the compliments felt hollow.

Mama Gloria noticed the changes in her daughter—Mirabel was always tired, her laughter seemed forced, and her eyes lacked their usual spark. One evening, she sat Mirabel down again, concern etched on her face. “Mirael, please, talk to me. I feel like I’m losing you.”

But Mirabel brushed her off, insisting she was fine. “I’m just busy with school and friends, Mommy. You worry too much.”

Inside, however, a battle raged. The voice that once whispered doubt now screamed, “What have you done?” But Mirabel silenced it, choosing instead to embrace her new life, believing it would lead her to happiness.

One fateful night, Mr. K invited her out again, this time to a more upscale gathering. Mirabel dressed up, her heart racing with excitement and anxiety. She felt beautiful, but as she stepped into the lavish venue, the weight of her choices began to settle in. The glitz and glamour felt overwhelming, and she suddenly questioned everything.

As the night progressed, Mr. K introduced her to other men, all older, all charming. They praised her beauty, showered her with compliments, and offered her drinks. But as the alcohol flowed, so did the reality of her situation. She was surrounded by men who saw her as a trophy, not a person.

Mirabel felt trapped. The realization hit her hard: she had traded her innocence for attention, and now it felt like a cage. When Mr. K leaned in closer, whispering sweet nothings, she felt a chill run down her spine. This wasn’t the life she wanted.

In that moment, she remembered her mother’s words, the love that had always been there, and the dreams she had for her future. Tears filled her eyes as she realized how far she had strayed from the girl who used to come home straight from school, eager to help her mother.

With newfound determination, Mirabel excused herself and stepped outside for fresh air. The cool breeze hit her face, and she took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind. She pulled out her phone and dialed her mother’s number.

“Mama, I’m coming home,” she said, her voice trembling.

When she arrived home, Mama Gloria was waiting at the door, her face a mixture of worry and relief. “Mirael, I was so worried about you!”

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” Mirabel replied, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’ve made so many mistakes. I don’t want to be a big girl anymore. I just want to be your daughter.”

Mama Gloria enveloped her in a warm embrace, and in that moment, Mirabel felt the weight of her choices begin to lift. She knew it wouldn’t be easy to rebuild the trust she had broken, but she was ready to try.

From that day forward, Mirabel focused on her education, reconnecting with her mother and rediscovering her dreams. She learned that true beauty came from within and that love and family were far more valuable than fleeting attention.

Mirabel’s journey was a lesson in self-discovery, resilience, and the importance of listening to those who truly cared for her. As she walked the path to redemption, she vowed never to forget the hard lessons learned and to embrace the beautiful future that lay ahead.

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