I don't think I'm especially hideous. In fact, I think my face is quite nice. I love putting makeup on it, playing features up. I still have acne, even though I am pretty consistent with washing my face in the morning and at night (I seldom fall asleep for the night with makeup still on). Which, weren't we promised we would grow out of pimples? I'm 36. I'm ready for it to be done!
At least I'm not showing signs of aging. The dark circles under my eyes aren't a sign of getting older as I inherited them from my father and have had them most of my life. (Pro tip: a week of sleep deprivation and forgetting you are wearing mascara makes it look like you haven't slept possibly ever in your life. And when you have pale skin, it really stands out.) I have slight laugh lines that you have to look for to find. I've been blessed that way.
I do have oily skin. Not combination. There's not a part of this face that is dry. There's not-quite-oily in the cheeks to almost-permanent-shine on the forehead, sides of nose, and chin. And everything in between.
Even though the most of me is fat, my face doesn't really show it. No double chin. Killer cheekbones, with pronounce hollows. If I ever did motivate to lose weight, I'd put James Marsters to shame.
I have long, thick, curly, dark blonde/golden brown hair. Like what the commercials make you believe you want to have. I love my hair. However, just know, it's not as great as you think. It's super dry and prone to breakage even though I never let heating elements near it and only wash it once or twice a week (trust me, it's more than enough). It frizzes if there a hint of humidity (most of my hair care regiment is designed to domesticate the frizz, but alas, it is feral and sometimes needs to be free).
All that being said, there are the times when I feel down on myself and need to be reminded that out there someone saw past those flaws.
I was in my mid-20's and was visiting my mom in the state over. We were shopping at a Value City type store (if you know what I'm talking about). I hadn't put much effort in. If I remember correctly, I was in jeans and baggy sweatshirt or sweater. Minimal makeup. (because I at least face the world with concealer if nothing else. I need it. See above.) Hair off my face, probably twisted in a clip.
I was cutting through the shoes, likely looking for my mother as she tends to wonder off when we are shopping together. Passing one of the aisles, clocked a mother and her daughter. Didn't pay too close attention but I would say she was around 4 or 5 (obviously much older now).
Anyways, when I passed, I heard the girl say, "Mama, she's so pretty."
There was no one else around.
She was talking about me.
You know how they say kids are brutally honest. I hope she was.
Now, you have to understand, in my entire life, outside of family, I've been told I am pretty maybe three-four times max. Not, "You look pretty." Not, "You look nice." I'm talking, "You are pretty." As in it's not the outfit, or the effort. But myself, the person.
As I said, I don't don't think I'm a dog. But it's still nice to be told that.
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