Call me paranoid, but…

I’ve recently realized my entire face is crooked.

You know how everyone has those things they wish they could change about themselves? Like, “ugh I have weird elbows” or “my hair is so dry” or “why is my face so chubby?”

I have all of those things. But because I’m a touch self-involved, I also have a strange sense of self-confidence.

#feminism

I’ll hear those self-depreciating thoughts and be like, “stfu, self. You’re the #1 babe!” And then I’ll go about my merry way thinking at least that, no matter my flaws, I have more than enough personality to cover it.

And then I realized my face is crooked. Like noticeably asymmetrical. And I don’t mean this to be “my face doesn’t match and thus I am a deformed elephant woman woe is me.” I’m like strangely curious about this. How have I gone so long without noticing? Have people been too nice to say anything? Is it my posture? The way I hold the camera? The angle at which I study my reflection?

But I think I’ve always known. Why else would I subconsciously–and constantly–spend my life posing with my head tilted to one side? Consider the most recent selfies from my camera roll:

It’s compulsive. It’s literally screaming “PLEASE DON’T NOTICE HOW MY EYEBROWS DON’T ALIGN!” smh. I guess in this world of selfies and self-obsession, I was bound to notice at some point. And I’m not sure what to do about it. Right now, my coping mechanism is to tell myself everybody has this problem. But I’m pretty sure Taylor Swift’s face is symmetrical.

Just saying.

But alas. No matter how many crop tops I buy or how desperately I try to like Calvin Harris, I will never be Taylor. And this, this is just par for the course. So I’ll keep my uneven face. And I’ll keep rocking that chin tuck selfie game.

Unless…do you think that’s what caused half my face to dip in the first place?

Damage.

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