I didn’t understand or care about the concept of being pretty until I was about 10 and Max Humphreys told everyone in our fifth grade class that he thought I was hot.
Before this I was more concerned with beating every boy in my school in an arm wrestle, getting 10 perfect back handsprings in a row, dying my tips hot pink, eating as many French fries I could in one sitting and contorting my face into the most disgusting expressions to hear my friends laugh.
Physical beauty wasn’t something that mattered to me until I realized that I possessed it, but more importantly, until people started focusing on it.
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