Plain.

Deleting picture after picture, silently screaming at my lack of photogenic-genes, I stare at the scar-ridden, frizzy-haired, misshapenéd nosed-glasses-wearing girl staring back at me.

Me.

Bags droop from my already lethargic-pale look,

My slight, crooked, braces-covered smile attempts to hide every insecurity I have ever possessed.

How can I be content with myself?

Even in generic commercials of ‘normal girls’ or #nofilter pictures, the girls are beautiful. What about me?

What about the girls who aren’t graced with blemish-free gorgeous faces framed by silky, glossy hair, with teeth so white they accentuate the beautiful tan on a slim body?

Why am I not pretty?

Why don’t I look this way?

Why am I not normal.

Inspirational quotes always lecture: You can’t cram all your personality into one screenshot of your life.

Sure, but that doesn’t change my sickly-appearance in every photograph I take.

This could become a poem where I ‘learn’ and ‘discover’ looks don’t generate happiness in life,

But I can’t.

I cannot lie and claim I am content and proud of who I am,

Because I’m not.

While everyday I try and compliment myself, it’s difficult to

Rewire the same brain which has dissected every single

Insecurity there ever will be about me.

 

But I still try.

Maybe in ten years I will appreciate my ‘different’ and ‘natural’ look,

But for the time being I still cringe and delete any picture

Of me.

But I still try.

And try.

And try.

I’d rather slave over calculus for hours than post a picture of myself,

Let alone a #nofilter one.

You can’t pretend girls like me don’t exist

Because we do.

At least I hope they do.

That’s what #nofilter means, right? Showing

Your true-self, not someone glossed over

By makeup.

Most importantly, by a fake smile, pretending to be someone

You’re not because this is supposed to be you, without

Anything covering up your personality.

Right?

Thousands of ‘beauty magazines’ can repeat everyone has

‘Inner beauty,’ but that’s a slap in the face.

You first have to accept yourself on the outside before you can

Accept your ‘inner beauty.’

But I Still will Try.