Comfortable

Am I comfortable in my skin? I'd say I'm getting there. I'm fine seeing someone I barely know (ie. my sister's college friend) in athletic shorts, a big T-shirt, and glasses. My hair all messed up, my eyes still peeling at the corners from that stupid makeup, shoving food in my mouth like no other and yelling answers to Jeopardy.

But I'd be lying if I said I don't prefer to wear contacts. If I don't want to look like those stereotypical New Yorkers, effortlessly chic and confident. If I don't try on jeans that are slightly too small and wish I could actually fit in them without those awkward bulges at the hips. But with all these flaws, I don't think I'll ever be the one constantly in high heels and makeup. Am I comfortable in my skin? I suppose, but instead of being comfortable, I want to be happy. All the time.