It was early in the morning and I was in the bathroom getting ready for work. I washed my face and was about to put the towel back on the hook, when somehow I managed to turn my head in a previously unexplored direction. My silly move was immediately punished with an excruciating “I see stars” pain before everything became silent and turned black.
An indefinite amount of time later the darkness started fading, and the stars were gone, but – my nose hurt like hell, I was on the floor and apparently I was bleeding. Ice pack, some paracetamol… my nose bled and bled, but it did not seem to be broken. In the days to come I experienced some bruising and swelling, but nothing really dramatic. Except that I started wondering… how big is my nose, really?
Think for a second – how big a nose must one have in order to hit a wall without any intention, or previous calculations and careful planning; rather just by turning their head? I had to know!
I went through the pile of girly magazines a friend brought me last month. I googled. I went to the library (there I spent most of the time sneezing loudly. How loudly? Well, very much like my-nose-is-large loudly!). I went back home and took out all of my photo albums and CDs with pictures of me. Looking, analyzing, reading…
A surgery or a self-help book shelf?
This world is a nasty place. All the possible reading I found could be roughly divided into two categories; the first about plastic surgeries and how you should look, which surgeon and nose shape you should choose (picking your favorite celebrity and finding the guy who did her nose to fix yours as well is supposedly a good way to get what you are aiming for) and what to avoid and blah blah…
The other category was about women who believe they look unattractive because of their supposedly big and ugly noses (often the noses are the bad parts, but sometimes the breasts are too small, or the bottom is too big, or…), but according to the articles, those women are just lacking self confidence and should work on that instead. You know, the usual blah blah.
I belong nowhere
And what about my case?! There must be plenty of other women that go through life blissfully unaware of their Cyrano De Bergerac noses, believing that they look cute, miniature and adorable like Claudia Schiffer in their midface region, yet they don’t! We don’t!
Apparently the world does not care. If we have no issues with our looks, and have no intention to operate us, no one cares that we go around and hit walls with our trunks, in spite of being in good health otherwise and having no problems with balance. No one writes about us; the invisible, the ignorant, “I am looking good” not-really-good-looking people.
Bad self confidence can be profited on, and the world cares about profit. Who can profit on me? Wall repairing people? No, I could not damage a wall with my nose even if I tried. Ice producing companies? There are no such. Pharmaceutical companies? Paracetamol is cheaper than plastic surgery.
Living on the edge
In my case rhinoplasty would probably be a necessity, not a vanity thing, since I have an increased risk of a head injury because of the unfortunate geometry of my face. Still, I think I’ll just pass on that one.
I am quite content as I am; a brave lady who lives a risky life on the edge of the beauty and occasional stars seeing; yet – in a seldom disturbed peace with her beloved trunk.
I do not even need a support group. I do not need self-help books. I do not need to save for surgery. All I need is some ice in the freezer and an OTC painkiller in the drawer.