Sometimes, I feel like I was dealt a bad hand when it comes to the genetics lottery.

I'm not particularity tall, and dairy has a tendency to take residence in love handles. My jawline sort of melts into my neck and my double-chin likes to make an unannounced appearance on Zoom calls and in selfies. Everything I eat takes ages to pass through my digestive system, and I am definitely not e-boy material in the slightest (there goes my Tik Tok career). In short, I am utterly average in both my appearance and intelligence.

In other words, I absolutely hate how I look.

Of course, this sentiment is not totally uncommon. Ask anyone you know, or a stranger on the street, about what they don't like about themselves and they can come up with at least ten things right off the bat. It's such a common sentiment that there's literally a whole industry built off of hating yourself. Beauty products promise to make us more beautiful (or, at least, create an illusion of beauty) and the gym promises that if you lift heavy objects you'll look like a Calvin Klein model. It's even gotten to the point where people hire doctors to mold and sculpt their faces into something more attractive, with varying results.

There are some days when I look in the mirror and I do like what I see, but those days are very few and far between.

Most days, I can't even look in the mirror without cringing. Some days, I refuse to even look at myself at all. It also doesn't help that my Instagram feed is entirely made up of people who are impossibly perfect. Their skin is always glowing, they're skinny (or totally ripped), their hair is shiny and without a hair out place, their wardrobe is totally fabulous, and they get everything they want without having to work for it. Hell, these days you can make at least six or more figures if you're conventionally attractive and know how to take good photos. Us average looking people have to work harder in order to be taken seriously, to even been seen. I mean, Jesus, the only reason why JFK did better in the first-ever televised debate was that he looked good on television and Nixon didn't.

I often feel like beautiful people have no problems whatsoever.

They live life free from problems and only have to think about what new hair product to get or skincare routine they want to try out. I know that's not true, though, I know that they have their own share of problems, as well.

Maybe someday I'll stop hating on myself and wishing that I could change but that takes a lot of work.

It's work that I am willing to do, but sometimes I don't even know where to start. Is it accepting my appearance for what it is? To cut myself off from the things that make me feel dysmorphic? It's really anyone's guess at this point.

But I'm ready for when that day comes.