So, apparently my last post was enough to make a friend concerned that I have some sort of body dysmorphic disorder. She called me up after reading it to say she has seen me in a bathing suit recently and there is nothing wrong with my body. Aside from the obvious discomfort that that came from her admitting to checking me out more thoroughly than either of us are ok with, I had to chuckle. I didn’t mean for my post to make it seem that I am some sort of disfigured troll or that I view myself that way at all. It was a late night rant after seeing one too many celebrity-look at me, I’m perfect!-articles. I wasn’t having an “emo” moment and no intervention is required. I am actually, for the most part, ok with me and how I look. I am not hideous and I don’t see myself that way. Neither am I perfect and that last post was a weak moment where the imperfections were the focus. So of course I don’t really look like I have been mauled by a tiger nor am I covered in grotesque hairy moles but even if I did, or I was, so what? I think life gives us much bigger things to worry about.
Now, to the friend who called…thank you for caring. Thank you for saying you think I’m beautiful. I am fine, just a smartass!