I have a big nose. And I love it.

     I used to hate my nose. A lot. A lot, a lot. I would spend middle school nights ignoring my math assignments and instead googling how much rhinoplasty would cost. I would watch Youtube videos of women in their early twenties and even teens flaunting before and after videos of their new noses. I watched videos like this until mid high school. I wanted a cute button nose. But, well, as genes have it, I did not get a button nose. Instead, I got a big nose and a ridge that sits happily on top.

     I genuinely thought about saving up for a nose job when I turned 18. I would never have admitted that aloud back then. But, now I am 20 and still have my nose--as I came onto this earth with it. (P.S. there is NOTHING wrong with plastic surgery, you go girl/guy/anyone. YOU are in charge of your body, no one else!) But now, my perspective has shifted. I honestly forget about it now. It does not weigh on my mind the way it used to. 

    My middle school mind was plagued with "oh my god, everyone's looking at it. Don't turn your head, they'll see your side profile. Can we retake that picture?"

     But those thoughts are gone now. I am okay with my nose, because I redefined what it meant to me. It's a nose and just that. I get to breathe through it and put blush on it and highlight the tip with shimmery powders and put cute freckles on it whenever I want. I can get cute golden hoops pierced through it and decorate it as I want. It's mine. And the more space, the better, right?

      As I got older, I realized I was so much more than what I looked like. I love my personality more than anything about myself. But, I found physical things to admire about myself. I love my body. I love it's curves and strength and soft skin and getting to decorate it with colors and ink. I love my eye color; they're the same color as my mom's--hazel. People always tell me I look just like her. I treasure that--long after she is gone, I will always have a piece of her. They are warm and full of life and exuberance, just like hers. They glow green and golden hues in the sunlight and turn a glossy green when I cry. I love my smile. It's uniquely mine and mischievous and accentuates my baby-faced cheeks and lets me show people around me that I love them without speaking any words. I love the shadowed, not quite there dimple that I have on my left cheek. All of my siblings got dimples except for me, but I'm pretty happy with the barely existent one I have. It's like a little surprise that you have to look real close for. It makes me more of a puzzle. Honestly, I love a lot of things about myself. I think it is good to love a lot of things about yourself--a lot of people have trouble with loving themselves.

       I guess I realized that there was no point in picking out my physical flaws. It's not like it ever did me any good. Picking out my flaws in the mirror never made me smile, it never brightened my day, and it honestly made me feel less like a woman. So I...stopped.
      I don't want to look in the mirror and ignore all of the wonderful things about myself and my face that my two favorite people gave to me--the features that connect me to the people I love most and have shared my whole life with; my family. I am going to have this face and this body my whole life. It is entirely mine, in all of its quirks and uniqueness. It is what people envision when someone says my name--so I want to own that vision. I want to embrace and love that vision, because well, if I don't, no one else will want to, either. I want to make sure that I am the first and foremost person loving myself before anyone else does.
     I would not be entirely me without my goofy nose. I would not be my truest self. I would not be entirely the me that my friends and family and I love. I want to keep that version of me. 

     You and I will look like ourselves forever. It may take time, but eventually, we will all be okay with that. I hope you get there soon.