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If I had to describe myself physically, the only word that comes to mind is average.

And before I go any further, I just want to make myself clear. This is not a self-pity post! Far from it. I’m not stretching a hand forward to receive a couple of ”Don’t say that, you’re lovely!” comments… I have my strenghts and my flaws, and I think I am a good person overall. But looks-wise, I’m just a solid average.

It is funny, because it’s really a question of perspective. I know that there are (silly) people who see more beauty on my face just because they love me. And  on the other end of the specter many many men (and probably women too) who consider me just plain ugly.

That’s fine.

As a child, I didn’t care about my body image the least bit. I was blessed to live without The Internets, so even if my classmates reminded me daily about my extra few pounds, my braces and glasses, when I ran back home, Mom and Dad always made me feel like the cutest little girl in town.

Things did get worse when I got to my teenage years. Because I was quite overweight, and the boys made sure to make me understand that I didn’t fit their beauty criteria.

My young adult years were a tid bit better, because although guys (sorry, I can’t call them men… They didn’t live up to the title LOL) ran away from me in public, quite a few of them spent ”quality time” with me, as long as what happened stayed between us.

By then, I started being really jealous of beautiful girls, and wondering why I hadn’t been granted lovely features like them. I did try my very best to lose weight, learn to paint myself an attractive face, and become the girl worth fighting for. Oh geez, did I try…

But years sinked in, and I learnt a lot along my journey. To accept my body as it is. Because it is the only one I have, and starving it, or trying to make it fit in clothes that never heard about the word ”comfortable” just seemed stupid. And although I knew a make up artist could make me look stunning, the only men that would care would call it ”cheating” anyway.

Also, while I almost only had  boy friends as a child and a teenager, I started connecting more with women as an adult, and many of them were (and still are) absolute beauties!  In and out, mind you. But I realized how their good features sometimes handicaped them, if they had a natural good heart. They just can’t be nice to men without them getting sparkling eyes. They have to be on guard at all times, not to have any simply kind actions taken for an invitation to something more (even if they have a Chéri too).

I never had to deal with that, and I am quite happy with it. Because I get along very well with men too, and I love them too. It would be awkward if I had to walk on eggshells every time I expressed my bold appreciation to my male friends.

I’m 45 years old now. I don’t want to have to take a week to wonder what and when I want to compliment someone, without it making my life an intricate puzzle.

And I don’t care if my hair is not Paris Hilton fluffy, if my make up doesn’t fit Beyonce’s or if I don’t have Rhianna’s waistline.

My message to you ladies would be (if I felt like I had a reason to influence you), just be yourself. Standards are just Bullsh*t.

Break the mirror.