I don’t think about it often. Most times I forget how big my nose is until I catch a glimpse of it in one of those mirrors where you can see yourself from all angles. When this happens, I’m often shocked to realize I’d forgotten how my profile looks. Huh, I tend to think. Oh, yeah. I do have a big nose.
It’s not gargantuan. Or grotesque. Or life-altering. It’s got a big bump in the middle. Big noses run in my family. My mom has the same bump, although hers isn’t as noticeable—which is probably why I tend to forget about mine. My sister had a big nose, but thanks to her severely deviated septum, she no longer does. I remember how she looked after her surgery with her head in bandages, her face swollen and purple, and I thought, okay, my nose isn’t so bad. My dad had a crooked nose and thanks to the beauty of genetics, I ended up with the bump and the curve.
My husband and I went on a reward trip for his job a number of years ago. We met another couple that we saw several times over the course of the weekend. One evening, after a few cocktails, he said, “Your nose is so…” He paused and I’m pretty sure I leaned toward him, anticipating with a sense of wonder and dread what he was going to say. I didn’t dare look at my husband, for I’m sure he was smirking. I did sneak a glance at the man’s wife and she looked as if she would like to disappear into the fibers of the rug upon which we were standing. He finally, after the very dramatic pause concluded, “interesting.”
Good save. And yes, my husband was indeed smirking. But you know what? He was right. It is interesting. Three generations of my family right smack in the center of my face.
What about you? Do you see something in the mirror you’d like to change but realize it represents where you came from? If so, would you please share?