This is my face - half with makeup on and the other half is the opposite of that.

The difference is there. My blemishes, pale lips are all there. I promise, they are there.

Do you want to know something? When I started to go out with full face of makeup on, people slowly began to notice me. That is the truth on that. Is this what pretty feels like? To be in the centre of attention?

Mind you, I never thought that I am pretty. No matter how many layers of makeup I used, the effort I put to fake a good smile or how bright my clothes are. Never in my right mind would thought that I am pretty. It's sickening, I know. Just when you thought I have enough, it's never enough.

Every now and then, I find myself scrolling through Instagram and I catch a glimpse of pretty girls that I envy the most. And I catch myself asking, why am I not pretty like her? Why can't I be pretty like her?

It is almost feel like so toxic. Just toxic, in my eyes. 

I am not one that will look into the mirror and tell myself I am pretty. I am not. I wish I were. It's almost impossible for me to take a barefaced photo because I never like it that way. I have never liked my appearance. I wish my nose was slimmer, eyes are a little expressive like they can tell stories, teeth are less crooked etc etc.

These insecurities are patented when I was a little kid, and still live today. These insecurities lingers and I have to accept it every day. I wish I can fit a lot of confidence in this huge body. It is then I wondered, this life is fair because it is unfair to all of us. You can't expect to have anything you want in life. 

I mean, Lord knows how powerful one can be if he/she can have anything that they desire. He knows the best. He knows anything and everything.

I want to start feeling pretty again, like the girls I always envy on Instagram (they are all so confident!). To accept what I see in the mirror. With or without makeup on, that girl in the mirror is almost pretty, but not quite certain, with blemishes all over the face and nose a little wide. Maybe we can ignore that unhealthy shine on her face. Also that chapped lips. 

I may not be pretty, yet. I may not like my appearance, yet. But I can learn to accept it. Maybe, to feel pretty is to accept.

Accept the flaws. Love them to bits. Maybe then, I might actually feel pretty, be pretty.