What I Love About Me

This post is a response to a post by The Feminist Breeder.

I don't normally think of myself as the self-loathing type, and yet, when presented the challenge of complimenting parts of my own anatomy my first thoughts were of all the parts that would be better if...

I gave birth a year ago and I still think of myself as being under repair. Unlike TFB I did not escape without stretch marks, and even though I have only had one child my belly skin has suffered damage that may never get better. How do you love that? I think that is a challenge for another day.

Instead, let me tell the story of how I came to love another part of myself: my nose.

My heritage is mostly Italian and English, meaning that the large nose gene was virtually inescapable. My nose is not small.

I hadn't thought much about it for the early part of my life, but as so often happens, I had to first hate my nose before I could love it. And as so often happens I couldn't hate it until someone else told me I should.

I was visiting family in Long Island and while I was changing in a bathroom an older third cousin I barely knew, disguising her voice, yelled through the door, "You have a big nose!" I was embarrassed and pretended I didn't hear, but the seed was planted.

I suddenly realized that I had a big nose. And what can you do about a big nose? You can't wear clothes that cover it up or flatter its shape. You can't hide it under make-up. No, you wear your shame, literally, on your face.

So, my world didn't totally crumble or anything. Life went on, but just with this little buzzing in the back of my mind that I was unattractive in a way I simply couldn't hide.

And then years later I was reading a magazine for teen girls. (Yes, a magazine helped me feel better about myself. How is that for twisted?) There was an article on wearing make-up and accentuating traits that sometimes people try to hide, like wide-set eyes and BIG NOSES. What?!! Draw more attention to it? But the girl in the photo was beautiful and not just because of her make-up but because she was owning who she was. She had a big nose and she loved it. She loved it enough to say, "Hey, look over here. Look at my nose."

From then on I decided to love my nose. And I did. And I do.