As many of my readers know, I am a half Indian (no, not Native American) and half European (literally every European country IS me) ex-model. Growing up in a predominantly Caucasian community, I looked different than most of my closest friends. As I hit my teenage years, my “differentness” went from 0 to 100 real quick (starts rapping to Drake song). Pinocchio happened. Minus the lies. My nose (God rest it’s soul), grew and grew… and grew. By 17, I had been punched in the nose while play-fighting with a group of friends and the injury made my “situation” even worse.
Pretty soon, people confirmed my worst nightmare. They would make comments about my nose. When I would model, agents would tell me I was perfect, but my nose was just too imperfect for the job. When friends would take selfies with me, they would have me turn a certain angle to avoid seeing it’s enormity. It. Killed. Me. While I preached loving every part of myself, I was secretly hating the one thing smack dab in the middle of my otherwise “proportioned” face.
2015. I chose to move forward with my rhinoplasty and I can honestly say, it was the best decision for me. It has made me more confident in showing my true self and while I do wish I had “gotten over” my obsession and accepted what I looked like – I have no regrets in altering it.
My realization from all of us? You can’t please everyone. Ever. The only person that you should please is yourself. And that’s the only person that really matters.