Day Eighteen- Pretty

I'm not a pretty girl. I'm just not! It's the truth, and certainly no tragedy. My mom and my sister are absolutely beautiful and I... I dunno, it skipped me. I'm overweight, with crater-like scars all over my face. It's been years since the actual acne did all the scarring, but I'll carry them the rest of my life. My eyes are a dull brown. I'm short enough I can't reach tall shelves and despite years of orthodontia, my teeth are not ideal. My nose is long and big, and I've got what some people call a "butt chin" but I don't mind so much... I got my chin from my dad! Some of the un-prettiness is my choosing. I choose to dye my hair crazy colors and get tattoos. Ironically, these "ugly" things make me feel.. good.

Some of my appearance is my fault, and some of it's not. I could definitely eat better and exercise more! But years of high doses of Lithium did the face-scarring, and I'm on Zyprexa, which my psychiatrist nicknamed "The Fat Pill."

Over the years of battling schizoaffective disorder and OCD, I discovered something: when fighting the war of mental illness, your body is the battleground, where the wars are waged. The antispychotic Abilify made me throw up for months. I was fighting hellish mood swings so Lithium took a few chunks out of my face. I was fighting hallucinations and anxiety and the pills stored a lot of extra fat and made me eat more. But, as in any war, sacrifices are made. To this day, when I talk to my doctors about my meds they all agree it is better for me to be healthy, than be physically attractive. Which makes a lot of sense!

But I have found beauty in other, unexpected places. I think my writing can be beautiful, and I love taking photographs of everything. I DO feel pretty when Mose kisses my face and puts his head in my lap, and when Sheldon yells at me so I pick him up, which makes him purr. I feel good inside when I make my sister and my dad laugh, and when I talk to my mom on the phone. I think I'm beautiful on the inside, and I enjoy the beauty of others.

So I will never be most people's definition of "pretty." So what? I'm past it. I put on weird makeup and take selfies all the time. Because it's fun.

And I'm gonna keep dyeing my hair! I want more tattoos! I think my unique brand of beauty will get me somewhere someday. Maybe my writing will boost me up, so millions of people read my words... that's what I dream about, not a flawless face.

So let's embrace ourselves exactly as we are, okay? Believe me, you're beautiful.

Sarah