Misc.

I Won’t Get My Nose Done Even Though I Want To

I’ve been grappling with the idea of getting a rhinoplasty for as long as I can remember. Part of my enlightened self wants to reject the idea that I even need cosmetic surgery. It makes my stomach curl knowing that I’d not only be conforming to white western beauty standards, but also erasing my history. A lot of the strong, and beautiful women in my family have this nose.
Why do I feel this desperate need to get rid of it?
I feel deeply ashamed of the disgust I feel when I look in mirror. I don’t want to feel like this, but it is as if I cannot control it. Who am I to preach self acceptance if I cannot apply it to myself? What kind of mother would I be to teach my future child(ren) that they should love themselves regardless of what they look like if the very woman that carried them couldn’t do the same?
Hypocrisy? Maybe.
I also acknowledge that we live in a society that places value on a woman’s appearance. Could it be that I’ve internalized this ideology, and that it is deeply rooted so much so that I don’t know who I would be if I didn’t hate my nose. Would it be easier if I bit the bullet, and got the nose of my dreams? Here’s the catch: there’s always the chance that I’ll get it done, and I’ll hate the new nose more than the old one.
There’s not exactly a reset button for this kind of thing.
Doctors won’t be able to guarantee my happiness. Say I get it done, and I’m not happy… Was this perpetual hatred of my glaringly ethnic nose for nothing? Did I waste all of these years denying myself of joy because I felt I couldn’t be complete unless I “fixed” myself. Only to find out that it never was about my nose, but the idea that I needed to sacrifice my heritage in order to get ahead in a world that’s hyper focused on white beauty standards?
Perhaps.
Who knows? One day I could wake up, and realize that I can be mildly satisfied with the nose I was born with. Wave the white flag, and decide that while I may never come to complete peace with my chunky dunky nose… it’s okay to JUST be okay with it. Could be possible i’ll grow the cojones to finally get it done. Perhaps I’ll be happier (or not), and I can move forward from that point.
I’ll cross that bridge when (or if) I get there.

XOXO, Crystal Emme

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