Hey guys please read my personal statement essay and give me suggestions ( it's my 2nd draft and criticism is well-appreciated) . Thank you!!
Essay 2nd draft: Unnoticeable assymetries
The clock strikes 11pm as I glare at the girl in front of me. Her face seems familiar, yet one I strain to recall every encounter. She possesses puffy cheeks and a nose slanting towards solely one side as her eyes carry resignation, and I can't bring myself to look at her further. A soft "click" echoes in the room as I shut my pocket mirror to its initial state. When did my own face become so unrecognizable?
As my finger continues scrolling through my TikTok feed, one autumn afternoon, my mind dismisses the intended information, rather observing an unnoticed pattern. With each scroll, I encounter heaps of immaculate facial features. My student counterparts with colored doe-eyes, sharp jaws, and glass clear skin, while I carry mismatched eyes, a rather vanishing jawline, and rough skin.
Alas there I was, face crimson red with bits of dead tissue cells dangling from my jaw as I rub the Gua Sha back and forth. I shut my eyes as the manually applied tension chafes my skin meanwhile my grasp around the object tightens with each coarse slide. Half an hour later, after vigorous activity, I had deflated like a balloon. As my vision began to blur, so did the conventional rules for perfectionism. Still, I forced myself to sleep on my back for symmetry.
The following day, I printed a rendering of myself for further modification. Stacks of grid paper lay scattered across my bed as the faint glow from my laptop demonstrated the infamous Golden Ratio. With a bright red sharpie in hand, I began circling the visible blemishes. The eyes, the nose, and don't forget the cheekbones. With each minute, increments of circles began to inundat the thin sheet. The red ink had nearly concealed my face. My fingers curled around the edge of the picture as I could feel an unpleasant feeling creep up the back of my neck and irritation tangle my thoughts.
In the midst of emotional anguish, a soft knock on my door snatched me from my despondent contemplation. In entered my mother, possessing a smile only she could offer with a bowl of fresh handmade yogurt. "Go easy on yourself with those proportions" she said, cupping my cheek with her unoccupied hand. I looked back at her, letting the weight of her advice settle between us. In doing so, I observed her weary eyes accompanied by dark circles, the wrinkles on her forehead and her pale lips. Nonetheless, those features did not appear to me as imperfections, but rather, personal possessions, each one shaped by its own history. Her worn eyes that offered nothing but tenderness to my tired student body, the wrinkles on her forehead shaped with every distress she endured for me, and lastly her pale lips alleviating my soul with every kiss.
In that moment, as small curves formed on the edges of my mother's mouth, the significance of late-night face massages and internal distress suddenly evaporated. While we tend to criticize our own appearance, deep down we know we'll never look at the person we love through a tarnished lense. A genuine smile and caring eyes will always make us forget about their unequal measures. Proportions will turn into smattering numbers as each facial assymetry develops into a signature they secure. The connections we form faily were never dependent on our appearance, but rather on the engraved bond shared between souls, and with each shared laugh, cry, and flaw, those connections strengthen.