Eyebrows aren’t a personal thing. Well, sort of. For a majority of my life they have been constructed of the tiny white and blonde hairs that make them near invisible. For so long I was stumped as to why I didn’t look as good as everyone else when the answer was right above my eyes, slightly transparent and unable to frown. Physically and emotionally I find it hard to express how I feel, especially when my face is fixated in a permanent smile. I wish I could look livid without looking dumbstruck. I have so much rage and nowhere to place it with a face like this.

It’s a year from now I started filling in my eyebrows and in this picture they’re pretty fucking terrible, but that’s okay and is the main reason I chose it. It’s about the progress I’ve made from there to here, slowly but surely across a bed of pine needles and small but beautiful flowers. I’ve already had this discussion concerning my transition into make-up and eyebrows were a part of it. Because of my progress I feel more confident and look forward to putting my make-up on everyday. It’s something important to me. I look forward to the things I will learn in the future, and for that I thank my eyebrows despite how fucking stupid that sounds.

 

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