What makes me beautiful

I may not have the perfect shape,
Or I may be overweight,
I may not have the perfect teeth,
I could have a pimple or two.

I never said I was perfect.
You may think that from the way I act,
‘Cause it may seem like I don’t care—
Like confidence makes the bad things disappear.

It seems to me that not everyone sees—
They don’t see the teeth, the pimples, the shape.
Apparently, they see a brave young me.
Sure, some will look and notice those things,
But only if they’re looking.

I’m not saying I don’t struggle with my image.
Jeez, if only you could hear the things I’ve said in my head.

I like to act—
It’s a lifelong passion.
Being on stage is a thrill you can’t imagine.
Loving to act comes with a price,
When it starts to affect your life.

When I go to practice or audition for a role,
All I see are things I can’t control—
My height, my hair, the things that make me different.
I’m terrified they’ll ruin my audition.
I think of myself—my freckles, my teeth,
My weight, my size...
Would you really want to be me?

Why, when I’m there,
After school is done,
Should I have to starve myself just for a role?
I love to act
Because it makes me feel free,
It helps me see the good in me.
As much as I notice the things I hate,
Some things make me feel really great.

I love my face—
Sure, it has flaws, but the pimples are barely there,
And my teeth aren’t really that crooked.
I love my freckles, the shape of my eyes.
I love my hair when it’s not greasy or too dry.
I love my glasses—they make me look smart.
So, as much as we tear ourselves apart…

There are things that I hate,
But there are things that I love.
Focus on the things that make you feel loved,
Not by others—your family or friends—
But by yourself, so you can let people in.

Trust me, I know how it feels to be hurt.
But the thing is, the only thing that hurts,
Is when you can’t learn to love yourself first.