The things we’re insecure about
Everyone has a physical feature that they hyper-focus on.
For me, that’s my nose.
It’s not really that big. It’s not really that weird. But if I had to describe it, I’d say it’s big and weird.
My sisters all have nice noses — either nondescript and quietly doing its olfactory duties or delicately roman. Theirs weren’t broken when they were five.
For the most part, I accept my nose. I have even tried celebrating it with a piercing to put shiny things in — a little show of defiant self-love.
Then, there are sharp moments where I hate it. In Driver’s Ed, when I overheard “Toucan Sam” or in school when I heard quiet conversations about selfies I had posted to Facebook. If I could mark my body with all the hurtful things people have said about it, there would be a cluster of words on the center of my face.
There is more to my nose than an odd shape. There is family history, heritage and trauma. It’s one reason I can look in a mirror and identify myself. I have spent so long focused on the thing, I don’t notice my eyes, which people say are beautiful, or my freckles, or my smile.
I have read other essays from big-nosed women who chose to get pixie cuts and make other changes that would show them off and force others to look. I look to Barbara Streisand and Lady Gaga. I find inspiration outside the US, where beauty ideals are different. Also, apparently, there’s a fetish.
Which, in a weird way, should probably make me feel better. Or not? I’m not sure.
As I write this, I am in the process of a divorce. Dating, and in particular, these highly visual mobile dating apps, has a way of teasing out insecurities. Why are the men I’m attracted to not matching? What is it about my appearance that is putting them off? Are my photos bad, or is it my face?
Recently, plastic surgery became a serious consideration for me. There is nothing wrong with it — everyone owns their body and should do with it as they please. But instead of changing my nose, I did something else.
I loved it.
I bought a shiny new set of nose studs.
I’m also self-conscious about my stomach, which has followed me around even since I weighed 100 pounds.
I ordered hip-scarves decorated with coins and started my belly dancing journey. I love it.
There is something powerful about embracing your socially-dictated “flaws.” The wisdom is that if people see you loving those imperfect parts of yourself, they will feel as if their insults have less bite.
If you have a Toucan Sam nose, stick a diamond in your nostril. If you have a fat stomach, shake it. If you have a gap in your teeth, wear bright lipstick and take every chance to smile. Make people look until you feel there must be something special about it — and there is, because it’s you.
When your heart catches up to your ploy, there will be nothing anyone can say to make you feel ugly or unworthy.
