I used to hate my hair; it's never straight nor curly when I want it to be.
I used to hate my forehead; it's a third of my face.
I used to hate my eyebrows and eyelashes; they do not exist.
I used to hate my under eyes; they are always dark.
I used to hate my nose; it's too wide.
I used to hate my cheeks; they're too chubby.
I used to hate my teeth; they're still crooked after braces.
I used to hate my lips; they're unremarkable.
I used to hate my chin; it's too pointy.
I used to hate my face. I couldn't stand looking at it. I would avoid my reflection altogether especially in the girls' bathroom when I would see myself beside other girls who I thought were too pretty for comparison.
It's so easy to fall in love with other people, with places, with hobbies. Why was it so difficult to fall in love with my Self? I am one of the many girls who were raised in the "Barbie" culture. As a girl raised amongst boys, my standard of beauty was based on a mere doll.
I accepted that I am unpretty...
...until my Pops died.
I missed my Pops so much that with what I know of genetics, I looked for him in me. Slowly, I found myself falling in love with my face. I am the perfect combination of my mother and my father. I am their legacy to this world.
Excuse me if you see me posting my face. Never been a fan of posting selfies but I am still in the process of liking what I see on my selfies.
Keep posting your selfies. Live loud and proud.
