Sometimes I look at myself and I find a lot of faults.

I feel as if the world expects a women to be so many different things at once. Women must be strong but not too strong where they can still have control; so we hear then say. We have to live up to countless physical expectations.

You need have creamy innocent face or a sun kissed tan. You must be skinny yet healthy and a small waist with average hips. You must have long legs that can walk in tall heels even though they blister your leg. Dainty fingers and curved noses are must haves. But they are no good without eyes that can capture another’s and grab their attention without words. You should have full lips and always should know the witty and charming things to say. To complement those pink blossoms you should have a cheekbone, not too high but still fairly be noticeable.

We all seem to strive for this ultimate perfection. When I look at myself I don’t see these perfect characteristics. There is no editing or Photoshop in our daily life. When I see into the mirror I see a girl who is somewhat dark and courses through teenage. I see cuts and bruises on my legs. I see frizzy hair that actually does what it is supposed to on seldom days. I see Pitch dark eyes with a hint of brown in it. I see my hands and notice my uneven nails due to stress and anxiety. I see scars on my arms and thighs. I look at person who fights things anyway. I see someone who is far off from perfection but quite frankly likes her cuts, bumps, bruises and the rest. I see a girl who has lost her million dollar smile. The world took it and hid it under her self-pity and loathing self. Perfection took her mind and soul. It took away her confidence and pride.

The world will always try and tell you that you are supposed to be all the things that you are not, but best you can be is yourself. As a human with reassured voice of self-expression we can be whatever we want to be as a person. But do not tell me how to live my life according to your guidelines about what is right and what is wrong. My life and my body is my only personal possession which I can carry to my grave.  What you believe about perfection is just a mirage. Perfection in my opinion is the ability to be completely imperfect but still have the courage to be oneself. And hence I believe that everyone is perfect in their own ways.