My side profile shows off my busted nose, but I don’t mind. I like the bump on the bridge of my nose. It signals that I am not afraid of risks. It makes me look tough, like I can handle myself in a fight. My nose juxtaposes well with my friendly smile and my kind eyes.

Growing up people would occasionally compliment me on my appearance, they usually called me beautiful instead of handsome. It made me frustrated when I was younger. The root of my aesthetic that elicited the comment? Prominently long eyelashes. My grandfather’s brother had luxurious lashes too (genetics are cool, huh?). When he was a child he despised people gawking over them so much that he rashly cut them, which left him with jagged and misshaped eyelashes. I never experienced that type of rage over my eyelashes; I was taught to just own it. But I can relate with him. I think that is why I like my broken nose—it is not beautiful, it is broken. It is an honest sign of my nature to be tenacious (and occasionally reckless). It doesn’t seem out of place; it is as if I was always meant to have a broken nose.