I always found a way in which I looked entirely wrong. This might send me down a rabbit hole for days - or weeks - of worry and self-loathing. How had I been so delusional as to imagine I looked fine, even good? The picture seemed to laugh in my face. It felt cruel.
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The Angst (and Joy) of Pictures
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I always found a way in which I looked entirely wrong. This might send me down a rabbit hole for days - or weeks - of worry and self-loathing. How had I been so delusional as to imagine I looked fine, even good? The picture seemed to laugh in my face. It felt cruel.