So I hated my nose. I begged for a nose job. Like most of the girls at my school. My mom would say maybe when I turn 18. That plastic surgery isn't good for girls under 18, they are still growing.
18 came and went and I was too busy for a nose job.
Then this year, the opportunity presented itself. I had to get surgery to fix my deviated septum. I could opt to combine it with a rhinoplasty, two birds- one stone.
My boyfriend was unconvinced. He told me something about conforming to western ideals of beauty. Blonde, ski-slope nose. Besides, he loved my face. And some other things. I think the summary was getting a nose job wasn't going to make me happy, I was going to continue to find things to be dissatisfied with because I have other problems.
He was right in that sense. Even if I did have the perfect nose, (it wasn't going to be a ski slope, that was for sure) I was going to find something else.
So I thought about it. And I got scared. What if I didn't look quite like me anymore? Was I just trying to conform to some idea of beauty? I had already gone back to brunette- I don't think I was fooling anyone into thinking I was some WASP from New England, even if I got my nose did.
So when it came time for my consultation, I opted out of the rhinoplasty. I was going to fix my septum so I could breathe again and that was going to be it. I was going to learn to accept it as my nose, and honestly it wasn't that bad of a nose.
Sometimes I see friends who did get a rhinoplasty, and think that they look amazing, and I feel a little jealous that I chose to retain my face the way it was given to me.
But I like to think that in profile, I look a bit like Audrey Hepburn. She also had a little bump in her nose.
Think Positive, people.
