How would you describe yourself to someone who can’t see you?

I would describe myself as 5’4, with long legs that make me appear taller than I really am. I have virtually no chest, which would be obvious to you if you could see me because it’s hard NOT to notice a woman who isn’t wearing a bra. I have a slim waistline, am slightly underweight, and it’s for those reasons that I live in crop-tops. Despite being underweight, my stomach, once flat and toned, is now being hidden beneath a layer of weird flabby skin that NO amount of crunches or dieting seem to be able to fix. I have long, black hair, that’s curly like coils or springs in a mattress, but its only the top layer of my hair that has the capability of becoming beautiful, bouncy, and like EVERY Pantene commercial EVER. The underside of my hair, near the base of my neck, it often hangs down much lower than the rest of my hair, making it look like I went to Miami University’s Cosmetology building to receive a free haircut, and a bad, bad, bad, stylist thought that it would be an ideal time to try out layers for the first time. The hair in this extremely precise layer (sarcasm), reaches all the way down my lower back, and looks completely different from the perceived “top layer” in that it presents as straw-like and wavy. There is no definition to this layer and it requires a lot more effort when trying to make the two layers blend with eah other, and not have it look as if a white lady, who had no business touching my hair (no, I have no idea what the actual fuck i was thinking) in the first place, took a pair of plastic scissors and just butchered this layer, similar to how a toddler might chop off their Barbies’ hair or putting gum in said Barbie’s hair. I have a larger-ish nose that, despite all of my 5 siblings having different fathers, we all possess as the defining physical feature that indicates we’re related. Even with my moms “Affirmative Action” policies when it comes to diversity and inclusion in the men that she chose/chooses to sleep with. My birth mom just had to make sure that everyone was properly represented lol. I have a natural beauty about me that Apple’s camera still can’t properly photograph me. I have olive toned skin and if I fail to go outside in the summer or it’s the lovely season of winter, I look palid. On the other side of that, I can go outside in the middle of a hot sunny day, in the middle of August, and stand in the sun for at least 20 minutes, I will have tan lines as soon as I’m safely back inside (and before someone decides to call me just a “dirty bitch,” I tested the hypothesis by immediately getting in the shower attempting to scrub the perceived tan lines off of my body, to the point where my sea sponge loofa, left my skin raw and red, and to my surprise, it wasn’t dirt), expertly hiding from the scary teenagers that live in my building. I have pretty thin arms that, I’ll admit, DO wiggle a little, but my biceps and triceps (despite not having worked out since I was a senior in high school) are so defined, it LOOKS like every day is “arm day” at the gym, even though I don’t have a gym membership. While my daughter and husband both have been blessed with a unibro, I have never had to pluck, pull, or fill in my eyebrows with a pencil. My eyebrows are perfectly trimmed, no straggler hairs to pluck from perfectly sculpted brows, and they are full without being overly bushy or trying to hide their sparseness. My lips are on the thinner side, but I don’t find them to be so thin that they would be labeled by anyone observing them to be undesireable. I don’t feel like my thin lips are a feature I feel particularly inclined to change, want changed, or have a strong opinion for or against, I’m rather neutral. I kind of have higher-than-normal cheekbones, but I wouldn’t consider my bone structure to be anything noteworthy. I don’t have a baby face unless I’m pregant or eating loads of junk food that ultimately manifests itself as a fat, chubbo face. I mean it’s quite a thing to see because it looks like someone took an air pump and pumped air into it. The last thing I’ll add is that I have unmanicured fingers and toes, with a hastily applied paint-job that was accomplished in part, with stolen nail polish from Kroger. I don’t even know why I stole it? I mean, it feels like I’m having a Kodak Black moment and just robbing the gas station to prove I, “still can,” not because I can’t afford it. I’ll leave with the example of Stan and Francine from American Dad, where Francine is stealing lightbulbs from the store, and as she’s excitedly showing Stan her haul, an exasperated Stan sighs, and says, “We can afford those.”

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