Perfectly Flawed

I always wanted to be one of the popular girls; you know the ones. Perfect hair, with a nice bounce at the end; perfect mani-pedi that always matches what they’re wearing…everyday, make up always just right, perfect clothes for their body type; always well put together. Perfect. You look at her and you know that she has equally hot-awesome-well put together friends. The jealousy is sometimes hard to mask…and sometimes you can tumble into a fit of insecure depression just by feasting your eyes on one of these gorgeous girls.

But do they have flaws?

I used to resent myself for my inability to be one of those girls. I have fly away hair that’s hard to tame; curls that don’t necessarily want to be straight regardless of what I do. I get pimples…I break my nails and have to cut all of them super short so that I don’t look like I was fighting a bum for a piece of cheese. I hate getting my nails painted because they chip. I wear black all the time so I don’t have to worry about matching. By the time I get off work, I’m cranky and tired and I don’t look refreshed. I look tired and bummed and I hate being approached by random people about nonsense. I don’t see the necessity in smiling and for the most part; I’m okay with that. I’m cool with being me, on the days I’m sure what being me means.

I wonder though what it looks like from a man’s perspective. Do you want a perfect girl or a fixer upper? What’s the disadvantage of having a perfect 10? I don’t know. I wonder.  Nice girls finish last too…especially if they aren’t gorgeous or really really funny.

I’ll expand more on this later.

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