Dear Nose,
I write this letter to you so that we can have a better relationship. We’ve been through a lot, and I’ve realized that I have never really shown you the love that you deserve. Over the years I’ve come to truly love myself; however, I feel as if there is a lot of room for improvement when it comes to you.
Do you remember when I used to put tape on you, with hopes of altering the way you looked?
I thought it was possible that if I left the tape on long enough you might squish back into my face just a little bit. I may have even went to bed with the tape on, but it never did a thing.
I remember wondering how much it would cost to get a nose job, and that once I got a real job, and made real money, I’d go out and get one. That hasn’t happened, and it probably won’t.
Nose, I do remember a couple of sweet moments with you. When my mother died suddenly, not even a year ago, I saw her when I looked at my hands, my feet, and yes, when I looked at you. It was the first time in my life that I felt like I had this nose for a reason: a remembrance of my mother. Even when her older brother was dying a cancer a couple of years earlier, and I saw him with no hair, his nose stood out to me like never before: “That’s my nose! I have the family nose!”
So Nose, I write this now, as I just got a haircut, and apparently this new doo draws attention to you. Maybe we can’t change our genes, but maybe I can change my perspective on you. Maybe if I had a perfect, pug nose I wouldn’t have my sense of humor. Maybe if my nose was cute and little, I would have attracted some shallow guy into my world instead of my wonderful fiancé.
I guess I should really thank you, Nose, for giving me the understanding that it’s not the material world that matters so much. Life is much fuller than that.
Thank you, Nose.
With Love,
The body that will always carry you
My mother being cool in the 70s
* * * * * * * * *
We all have a part of ourselves that we wish we could change, but we simply cannot.
Maybe you would like to write a letter to a part of yourself!
Don’t be hateful, just be honest, and maybe the light will shine through!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
10 Hours Later:
I’ve already noseticed, I mean noticed, a new relationship with my nose.
With every glance I had of it today, I was much more accepting of it
on a level I’ve never experienced, and in a way I can’t even English.
Let my story be a guide
to take the time to tackle the things that
fester somewhere deep, down within.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Days Later:
I now like my nose.
the gluten free yogi 