Mirror, mirror, on the wall

The other day, I was flipping through a recent issue of Allure magazine (don’t judge me, guys – I was waiting for my car to get fixed), and by the time I got to the end, I felt like there were at least 25 things wrong with my body.
Then, I realized I was being sucked into this beauty industry vortex and I needed to escape quick. The magazine was only trying to tell me things I should improve about myself, but they weren’t actually true. (Except maybe the part about improving my memory. It wouldn’t hurt to stop locking myself out of my apartment.)
It’s very likely that anyone – guy or girl – would feel this way after reading page-after-page of ways to make your skin tanner, your legs thinner, your tummy tighter, your face smoother, your hair shinier, your nose smaller, etc. (Does anyone actually care about noses?) This would make anyone feel insufficient, unless, of course, you’re a zombie, in which case you probably don’t have a nose.
The point of all this is to say: It’s way more fun to like yourself and not buy into the zillion ways you’re not good enough. While it’s not as easy as snapping your fingers and having a perfect self image (although, real talk, that’d be awesome), it’s not worth it to sweat the stuff that a bunch of randos have defined as attractive. Plus, even people we think are perfect are modified in some way.
The real you is the best kind of you there is. Whether you’re a small, furry kiwi or a banana that’s one big, long curve, it doesn’t matter. Life is a lot sweeter when you can just rock who you are.