A friend of mine sent me a bunch of photos from the fall of 2010. As I looked at them with my 2017 eyes I was amazed at how good-looking I was. Currently, when I look in the mirror, I see thinning hair, dark circles under my eyes and crow’s feet jutting out from their sides, hair coming out from my ears and nose, and a forehead lined with frustration.
I never thought of myself as good-looking. As a youth, I was teased and taunted for my Middle-Eastern nose, hair, and skin tone. This seed was planted long ago and its roots have grown deeper than you or I can know. When a kind person pulled the weed, the roots would break like a wishbone on Thanksgiving. I was always left with the short end of the bone, thus my wish of feeling handsome never came true. Many times, I tried to kill the weed and its roots with chemicals but they only left my head hurting in the morning. How do I kill this weed from the roots?
But after writing this I can see more clearly, that there is much to appreciate in me presently. My story is something to honor, to cherish, to speak of. My story is handsome and that is all I need to know.