A filter-less life

I'm not too good for makeup.

I let beautiful sets of shadows and concealers sit mint in my drawer

A "late bloomer" who feels judged if she lets it grace her face

who paradoxically feels like a gaudy thick mask simultaneaouly announces a desparateness for approval and superficial, self-manufactured self-esteem, and hides her emotions from the world

          if she wears nothing far beyond a basic blush, gloss, and mascara

                  amidst a sea of expert eyeliners, smoky eyes and contours who don't look twice.

And so I await the day when I wake up and smile wholeheartedly at the face I insist on adorning.

Like he does when looking at me. Even on those worst days when I consider surrender.

Live every day without a filter