Three more things…
I freaking love my eyebrows. Sure, they’re profuse in the way that only someone with my father’s genetics can understand, which makes me a worshiper at the temple of my waxer, but they are lovely. They have a great natural shape and fullness, and they’re probably the part of my face that I use most in expressions. I have a little eyebrow raise that my housemates call “a tweak of sex”. It is apparently a very sexy expression. Who knew?
I quite enjoy my legs. I think my calves are pretty shapely, and I’ve got nice ankles–not too bony and pointed, and with a rather elegant turn. Sure, my thighs could do with a few less pounds, but I enjoy their proportions and they fit the rest of my body quite nicely. When I was thinner and more form-fitting pants were the fashion, my mother and aunts used to gift me with pants and coo that they wished they had my legs.
I’ve always loved my hands. They’re not pretty, and I really abuse them. They’re sort of mannishly shaped and several of my fingers are all wonk-a-doo crooked, and I’ve bitten my nails longer than I can remember, so I’ll never win any nail awards, and I’ve always got hangnails and cuts, and I almost always have a burn or am nursing a burn scar thanks to my time in the kitchen…but I truly love each and every imperfection. I can see my life there. I can see things that are capable of doing strong, wonderful work even if that work takes something out of them. I aspire to my hands in some ways.