Loving your imperfections is hard. I have spent many nights obsessing over my loud laugh, staring at my stretch marks in a mirror, and smothering the circles under my eyes in anti aging eye serums. Now, I'm all for being proactive in skin scare but I really didn't need eye serums. I am 21. I needed sleep and to drink more water. But at times I will try anything to put my insecurities to rest. I will be the first to admit, my confidence is no where near where I want it to be. But I'm trying very hard to love my unconventional beauty. I think it's hilarious that my friends can recognize my voice in a crowd. Sometimes I say particularly naughty things, because I know they will recognize that it's me. People describe my voice as deep, I prefer to think of it as more likely to hit the Adele notes. My voice was something I was very self conscious about growing up. It was a joke in high school choir that I could sing with the basses(I've learned that this isn't a bad thing, like I said I can fucking kill an Adele song). That is the key to loving the things that make you different, see the beauty in it. Another insecurity that I had growing up was my freckles. I hated them. As an adult they hold no resentment. I learned to love my freckles when my grandmother, Nan passed away. She always loved my freckles, and called them angle kisses. The summer after she passed away I had come inside after being in the sun for a few hours. The freckles were sprinkled across my cheeks and nose. I stared at myself in the mirror, and began crying. How beautiful it was that I could finally see what my Nanny saw my whole life. When I learned to love my freckles, I learned to value new perspectives. It would be so boring if we all looked the same. When my friends look for me in a crowd they look for my eyes; the blue eyes that smile, they listen for my voice; deep and full of laughter. They look for me, flaws and all.
"I'm still learning to love the parts of me that no one claps for" -Rudy Francisco
Libby Anne Groseclose