I know I may not have the perfect ski slope nose…the perfectly proportioned body. My feet are far too big for my body. I lack hips. I have a big nose. I have braces. I have creepishly long fingers. I have no waist line. I’m short. I KNOW THIS. And I just..I know, okay? I don’t need anyone to point out my flaws. I know what they are. I hate when people point them out. I hate when people complain about something that I know is a flaw of mine. It makes me feel embarrassed. I just want to curl up and die because while my best friend is looking like a Barbie, I just look like her stupid wanna be follower. She’s platinum blonde, skinny, tan, blue eyes, long eyelashes. I’m a brunette, I’m not skinny but not chubby, I’m pale, I have hazel eyes, I have thin eye lashes. I coat my face in make up like it’s going to change me. But it doesn’t. I’m still Sydney. Sydney with a big nose, big feet, braces, no hips, and long fingers. I just question why I had to be this way. And of course the technical reason of genes from my parents cross my mind. God, to be like the athletic, toned, gorgeous girls. If only.