I’m not especially fond of my nose.
It’s been said, as we age two things never stop growing— our ears and nose. Something about those being made of cartilage or some other nonsense.
This leaves me doomed.
Let me explain.
My mom’s side of the family is blessed with eagle beaks. A nice long graceful curve. My mom and her other four siblings all got this “beak”. I think it came from Grandpa—especially since Grandma was sans-beak and in my eyes quite glamorous with a movie-star face.
My dad’s side of the family is blessed with ski slopes. Again this came from the paternal side of the family, which equates to the stronger gene passing to me. Grandpa had a serious schnozzle, creating an internal cavity like the Moaning Caverns. Good for smelling and 100-piece orchestra-strength snoring.
Eagle beaks and ski slopes, either way there was little hope for me.
As a child, there was no sign of what was to come. I had a cute little button nose—really doesn’t every child? As I started to bloom into a woman, I read in a book (What Every Girl Should Know) that as my body changed, my nose would become elegant with a point on the end. I was very excited for this change. Every day I would look in the mirror to see if I had a beautiful “elegant” point. Seemed like every part of becoming a woman was happening to me, but that certain change in my nose just wasn’t to be. My nose kept a round little button at its tip. Then one day at the dinner table my dad said something about my “ski-slope nose”. I laughed because I didn’t have “his nose”. But I went to the mirror that evening to see if he was right.
Nope, no point yet. I turned sideways and held up a mirror to examine further. “Hummm, maybe my nose is long…ish.”
Regardless of the teasing about my nose and the fact that I could hang spoons really well—I just never thought much more about my nose. I wasn’t even fazed during a wine tasting when I accidentally snorted wine up my nose. We all had a great laugh and blamed it on the odd-shaped glass and small opening.
So yes, I was at ease with my sniffer. But that all changed in my thirties.
It was during a family vacation, I was going through everyone’s digital photos of the day. And a single picture caught my eye. It was my profile. I was horrified. It was the worst picture ever! My nose appeared to stand out a good four inches from my face. I was Steve Martin in the movie Roxanne. I was sure it was a bad angle. But every picture after that was more hideous than the last. I quickly went to the mirror, feeling certain that some type of growth hormone had sprung loose in my body and grew my nose two more inches overnight.
I stared at my reflection. Turned my head from side to side. Analyzed my nose. There was no point, nothing elegant. Just a giant nose with a big bulbous end. As I looked on with horror, my sunburn added to my warped perception that I looked like a drunk WC Fields.
That evening I photo-shopped every profile picture I could find. I started fixing my nose to how I thought it should look. Either my perception or nose was out of control. (Or maybe both.)
This started my journey of scrutiny. I even got to the point of considering rhinoplasty. Some gals dream of liposuction and augmentation—I dreamt of an “elegant point” just like the book said I would have.
A year later, and another family vacation brought more photos. In their midst was a picture of me steering a boat. I was looking to the side and my profile said it all. Hello nose! Tempted to photo-shop again, I stopped and thought; what is wrong with me? I’m actually modifying my nose in these photos. Changing who I am!
A walk outside would clear my head.
It seemed strange God would wish to talk with me about my nose during the walk. But what came to my mind, out of the blue, was “you are a jewel” and “accentuate what I’ve given you.”
If you’ve ever wondered if you hear God, let me give you a hint. God, God’s spirit, does speak. You just have to know what to listen for. Typically, God doesn’t work in audible-megaphone ways. Rather it’s in a stir. A nudge. It’s a thought that comes from nowhere. A pure, neutral, good thought you wouldn’t have expected or could have created if you tried. These are the times I’m certain God’s intentions are coming through, into my inner ear, embedded deep into my brain.
“You are a jewel” and “accentuate what I’ve given you.” I held onto those words for a year. I didn’t understand the message, yet it wasn’t disregarded. Rather left unattended on a backburner in the corner of my mind.
It had been several years since I started disliking my nose. Nothing changed, and I’m certain it’s growing exponentially.
In an unrelated experience, with no thoughts of my nose, I sat on the bathtub edge decorating my toes with little rhinestones. And then POP, those words came back to my mind: “you are a jewel” and “accentuate what I’ve given you.” I knew this had nothing to do with my toes. Smiling I went to the mirror, looked at my nose and glued one of those rhinestones onto the thing I thought needed rhinoplasty.
It was beautiful. And I giggled at the simple correlation of a RHINestone replacing my need for RHINoplasty.
The short story, of my long nose, is that about ninety days later I pierced my nose. A dainty jewel rests within the furrow. And now, I love it.