Today's Post is About Self Esteem

Actually today's post comes in response to a prompt by ravurian: You're asked to provide a written description of yourself for an artist (who doesn't know what you look like and has never met you) to turn into a portrait. What description would you send to the artist, and would you be telling the truth? and comes in the form of a weird half-poem thing.


Firstly, I would say that I'm funny and have a nice personality; why that matters in a discussion of my physical attributes I don't know, but god knows it always does

I would say I'm of average height; because that's a safe place to start

I'd say I have curves that belong in a renaissance painting; at least, I like to think so
I don't look at a lot of renaissance paintings, and I haven't looked in a full length mirror in about five years

I'd say I have a gap between two of my bottom teeth, and that the most beautiful girl I know once told me I had a gorgeous smile

I'd say I have black hair with a grey streak coming down from my right temple; I'd say no, I haven't done it on purpose to look like Rogue off of X-Men, why do people keep asking me that?

I wouldn't say that the reason I don't wear skirts or dresses is because I can still half-hear the taunts of thunder thighs
Or if I did I might say that thunder thighs sounds like a fucking superpower, because sometimes all you can do to stay sane is pretend to be in on the joke

And if I said that, I might say that after you've been in a wheelchair you don't care what shape your legs are so long as they work; this is a lie, but it's one I keep telling because I want it to be true

I'd say that I have a smattering of freckles across my nose and cheeks
I wouldn't say that I know precisely how many, because admitting that you count your freckles leads to awkward questions about skin cancer, and hypochondria, and have you talked to anyone about these feelings...?

I'd say that I have blue eyes, with a bit of squint in my left one, and my friends say that you can tell if I've been drinking by it
I wouldn't say, it's Christmas, I'm alone, I shy away from my reflection like a fucking vampire, and I feel like crying at every bit of mistletoe I see, and you need the squint to tell if I've been drinking?

I'd say, I hope this portrait is going to be a caricature, or an abstract, or one of those ones done entirely in cubes...

I wouldn't say any of that; I'd lie and say I look like Eva Green
Because who wouldn't want to look like Eva Green