I’ve never been the most confident person. And truth be told, I’ve always been pretty insecure about my body.
My upper lip isn’t very full. When I smile, all you see is teeth and gums.
My chest is very much on the smaller/flatter side of things. Thank god for push up bras.
My nose is a little big.
My ears are different sizes.
One of my eyes is slightly more open than the other.
And my personal favorite, I have permanent dark bags under my eyes.
When I was in high school, a good friend of mine called me Felix the Cat. When I asked him about it, he told me it was cause under my eyes were super dark, I looked like someone had punched me, and under my eyes were always puffy.
His comparison to Felix wasn’t well founded, cause he has zero of those qualities. But Cody’s words have always stayed with me, because they were true. I always knew those things about myself, but I hated that other people saw what I saw when I looked in the mirror.
Every day since that day I have obsessed over the fact that my under eyes make me look like a crack addict. I assess myself in the mirror every morning. I pick apart every picture of me (I even photoshop around my eyes for pictures I post online).
I’ve tried every thing I can think of to reduce the puffiness and dark circles, to no avail of course. So my morning makeup ritual beings with a heavy dose of concealer, which really doesn’t hide the problem completely.
Sometimes I’m glad Cody let me know how bad it was. Because it let me know that it was something real, and not something I was just finding wrong with myself, and gave me the kick in the ass I needed to start doing something about it. But somedays I wish he never, because its something I can’t change, and sometimes that gets me a little down. Its not fun to look in the mirror and never be happy with the face looking back at you.