When you look at me and then look at any Supermodel walking the runway, you’ll instantly think the latter is the prettiest of the two.  It’s ok, because you’ve been conditioned to think that way.   After all, my thighs touch, my hair is natural, and I’ve worn my bare face in public since birth.

“What in the world is pretty about that?”  Those who run the world might say.

“It depends on how you look at it.”  I’d reply.  “What’s ugly to you might be heart-stoppingly gorgeous to another.  But that’s on the outside, and I’ve accepted that that draws out different opinions from everyone.  What I chose to focus on is birth.”

Birth.  I was born.  Isn’t that Earth shattering news?

Out of the millions of eggs and countless menstrual cycles, I was in the right place at the right time.  And to dig even deeper into the subject, I am the only person who has ever lived to have this… blemish on my cheek.  Never before will, nor will there ever be, another piece of candy that caused this particular zit to block this unique pore on this one of a find face.  Isn’t that fantastic?  Isn’t that marvelous to know?

Flawless, as I’ve read, is defined as: without any blemishes or imperfections; perfect.  Ok.  What model are they going by?  There is only one You, so who are you being compared to?  Someone else?  There’s only one of them, too!  So we all are flawless!  We all should not feel less than, when we can look in a mirror and be inspired by, proud of, and happy to be ourselves.

And you can tell that to the person who says otherwise.