Me and my nose

I used to hate my nose. Its funny shape and size, and the way it wiggled when I talked. I've always found it unnecessary to point out to people the things about them that are odd, worrying that maybe it might be something they were ashamed of, yet no-one seemed to consider that when around my nose.

The thing is, I didn't always hate my nose. I never used to think about it - any more than my fingers or my toes. It's only when someone said to me (on many occasions) that I had a big nose, that I began to feel ashamed of it. Whatever the reason, it made me very self-conscious of the (relatively speaking) little pointy thing in the middle of my face. It was also compared often with my mother's nose, and it cannot be denied that my beloved mother does have quite a big nose. However, when I look at my mother, I don't hate her nose. It's quite cute. She is beautiful. It doesn't mar her face.

This weekend, during an exercise of observation as part of my counselling CPD (continuing professional development), my partner made a comment about my nose being unusual. She had previously censored this comment, worrying it may hurt me, because she didn't like her own nose (which I thought was a perfectly normal and very nice nose). The thing is, her comment did hurt me, at first, when I heard 'unusual' as 'horrible'. I spent some time during the rest of that day peering at my nose from different angles. I thought about changing it and I felt quite protective over it.

I woke up this morning and realised something. I love my nose.

I love the way it wiggles when I laugh or talk - it's telling everyone more about how I feel. I love the cuteness of it from the front - a round buttony kind of thing. It is fine in size. I also thought about the fact that me and my nose have always got me what I have wanted and needed - jobs, homes, friendship, my love, adventures, fun, kindness and laughter. It has never been just me. It has always been me and my nose. I also love the fact that the funny shape of the tip of my nose is what connects me to my mother and to my sister - the only thing I have in common with my twin.

So, I am finally at peace with my nose, and all because someone finally acknowledged, unprompted, that it was indeed odd, but that odd did not mean horrid.