Over
Spring Break I went vacationing in Corolla, North Carolina. We were
in a beautiful 12 bedroom house with all of the people I cared for
the most. Our previous two vacations resulted in one day in the
hospital and the other with a one year old taking half a bottle of
gas-x pills (no worries, everyone turned out fine). As seems to be a
tradition with my family, it took no more than 48 hours upon arrival
for a serious injury to occur, and this time it was my own. Being my
graceful self, I slid getting into the shower which resulted in one
of my bottom teeth slicing all the way through to my chin. I
recollect that the process of falling felt like it took forever, as I
was attempting to grab something to hang onto to catch myself.
Obviously this changed my entire spring break, resulting in much time
spent with an ice pack stuck to my face. I do remember though as I
was standing up, realizing the amount of blood I was loosing, my
first instinct before I saw myself in the mirror was something to the
effect of, “Why does it have to be my face?”. This made me really
take time to reflect on personal reflection on beauty. I mean, no, no
one wants a face full of bruises, but the fact that that was my first
concern really made me reflect on how much I let societal ideas of
beauty influence the way I view myself.
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