My eyebrows aren’t even and they never bothered me. One brow tweaks up like a witch from the 18th century, and the other rests like Mathilda’s innocence. My nose curves down on a slight bump and ends on a fleshy curb which highlights nostrils bigger than the usual standard. It is closed, funny, and pinchy. But it doesn’t bother me. I have a beauty spot to the left of my grin, and it reminds me that there is nothing flat or tedious about my skin – I am splattered by a paintbrush; coloured and full of gusto. People would often joke that I have chocolate on my face, then I’d often remind them that imperfections are the sweetest of gifts. It doesn’t bother me. People would call them pimples, but I resort to calling them little corals of wildlife and unexplored territories; my arms which have never failed to hold me to myself, at times where all I wanted to do is collapse. The flesh on my hips gifted me charisma and the width on my shoulders gave me stamina. God gave me a voice but I will not put it to incompetence; I’ll make a sweet mixture of women whose voices drip in grace and wit, and men who hold high in honesty and charged acts of bravery – I will be both, the poet and the daredevil, the lover and the dragon slayer. And at this point, I refuse to bound myself in a box of negatives and positives, segregated. I think I’m an absolute zero – chargeless and polar, all at once. I’ll be a hero, but I must learn to be weak. I dwell in my own wilderness, but I want to be calm. I want to be honest without hurting people. I want to love bravely, and without fear. I want to fight heartily, but I don’t want to think about the pain of the wounds which will come from that. I want to be an intellectual, but I also want to forget. I am of innocence, but I am desperate to be tough. I’ll cry and learn to laugh the next minute. I want to take the hurt of the world without having it traumatize me. I want to be able to say that my face reflects my character; I am completely okay with all that I am. I want to be able to say that I am OKAY with everything people scorn about me, and I want to express it without them having to take advantage of my okay-ness. I want to be free and I want to allow myself to be loved by me. I want to live a life where nothing really bothers me.