I don’t consider myself a vain person however, I do pay attention to my physical appearance because let’s face us – society is all about the looks. There are things about my person that, well, I’m just not satisfied with. My hair – yeah yeah, I subscribe to India Arie’s “I am not my hair” but who doesn’t want nice hair? Who said my hair wasn’t nice? Oh, I believe that was me. Anyone who knows me knows you’d never be able to pick me out of a lineup because my hairstyles change like the weather. I even drank some Natural punch and literally (yes, I’m using the term correctly) had a mini nervous breakdown. When you start something, you have certain expectations and during this process, my expectations weren’t even considered. Losing sleep, crying, frowning, staring, squinting, pacing, you get the picture. So I went to AA (see Bubba J of Jeff Dunham) and turned it loose. I suffer from fever blisters, cold sores. Medical research says you pick it up during childhood. In my early years and up until Abreva came on the market, mini nervous breakdowns were the norm when I had an outbreak. I remember sterilizing a safety pin to pop it and then dabbing it with an alcohol soaked q-tip. After Abreva, and figuring out what triggered them (lack of sleep, fatigue, bad period) I again went to AA and turned it loose. When we don’t look, or think we don’t look our best, it’s hard to face the world. For women, if the hair ain’t right, nothing’s right. I have greasy skin. I know oily it the PC term, but when you can wipe your face and use the oil to moisturize your hands, umm yeah, that’s beyond oily wouldn’t you say. So, I get chemical peels and man do they give you a glow. Having the critical eyes that I do, you may not see any blemishes but I see blemishes the size of oranges. To dry out my oranges, I have to peel (reference was so not intentional) and for a day or so, I’m a flaky, peeley, semi-scabby mess. But when all is said and done, I give good face. My point is, we all have some things that give us grief, but I’ll take those minor physical bouts of indigestion over the mental bouts any day. I’m human, I want to look my best and sometimes that want gets the best of me but self-correction is the best type of correction. I am perfect, in God’s eyes, and he should know. I was made in His image, so that means I have some good company when it comes to fever blisters and bad hair days. I wonder if He wears a hat when having a bad hair day or did He just shave it all off? In the end, I guess we’re just alike, trying to be accepted just the way we are. When I think about all that I’ve gone through, my trials and tribulations, my heartache, my sorrow, I’m so glad I don’t look like what I’ve been through. Thanks for the lesson and the mirror Pops.