PolyProse

I was unable to post on Monday, the 1st. I had planned to but had an issue with Wi-Fi connectivity. That problem has been resolved, so I can post again. However, I have bittersweet news.

I started attending college! I moved into my dorm a few days ago. My planner is packed. The sad news is that I plan not to post for the next week, possibly the next two weeks. College is expensive and demanding. I want to ensure that in my first two weeks here, I become accustomed to my course schedule. Unfortunately, my courses are the priority, which means PolyProse will have to bend a bit to fit into my schedule elsewhere.
Once I acclimate to these new conditions, I will learn which days I can post and when I will have time to write, revise, and edit. PolyProse will still have a place in my schedule.

Looking back, I realize that my Wi-Fi issue may have been fate. I read something yesterday that I wanted to share with you. As I strolled around campus, I experienced a sense of dislocation. When I tried to ask for directions, people stared at me for a few seconds and took a big breath before responding. I’m debilitatingly self-conscious. I thought that maybe I smelled gross, but I had just showered. Everyone likes the smell of strawberry shampoo and mango body wash. I smelled like a sexy hurricane, so it wasn’t that! Regardless, it kept happening.

I would say hello and ask for directions or for some insights, then be met with the gaze of someone who was staring into a Lovecraftian horror. I assumed that I must have appeared so unattractive that they were awe-struck trying to process their disgust. It could have been anything else, but I always think the worst. I hate being perceived; I prefer being invisible, but for some reason, I was visually inescapable yesterday. I decided it was time to hide for the day. I sat in my dorm, upset, swiping through Facebook. I felt uglier than I have in a while.

Then I saw a post that said this: “The next time you feel ugly, remember that your face is the genetic culmination of hundreds of generations of people who fell in love.”

It was a message I needed to read in that moment. I wanted to share this in case anyone feels dissatisfied with appearances. All of us have faces made from love, whether we ourselves love them or not. I don’t think I’ll care if people stare at me for the next few months, at least.
Remember that we are our own worst critics. Keep writing!