In my adolescent uneasiness, I remember staring into the mirror reflecting on my facial features for way too long. I would wonder what life would be like if my nose were only a little smaller or my eyelids a bit less heavy. I would be perfect, if only I could change...everything. Well, not everything; my eyebrows could pass in a pinch. I did have to pluck a few stray hairs from them occasionally and they weren't exactly symmetrical, but if I was going to be able to model anything it would be my eyebrows. There wasn't a big market for eyebrow models in the 80's. It seemed Vogue wanted more of a complete package for their covers, not just decent eyebrows.
Adults would often comment that I had an "exotic" beauty and that I would be a "knock-out" when I got older. I always knew those giving the compliments were either liars or my mother. I also knew that exotic=weird and knock-out when you get older=not so great right now. Mostly, what I felt as an adolescent was that I was different and not in the way that Cyndi Crawford was. I was pretty sure that her beauty mark was mocking me just like the bully on my bus.
Now, as I turn forty I find the best part of getting older is finding more in my reflection than a strange, mismatched set of facial features. I have discovered that I'm interesting to look at, not because I'm beautiful but because I am unique.