What's Wrong With Me?

Chapter 1; My concept of beautiful

To me the definition of beautiful is having plump lips, thin nose, almond shaped eyes, D sized boobs, a thin waist & hips to die for.

I don't have any of those. I have thin lips, a wide nose, my eyes are big circles. I have A-cup boobs, a thick waist & huge hips. I know, not attractive at all. My best and only friend, Kia, is the definition of beautiful. At least in my eyes she is. She just doesn't know how to use her sexiness to her full potential.

She covers up her body, she's kind of a tomboy & she doesn't know I secretly hate her for covering something I wish I had. She acts like she's a 500lb whale, she buys clothes that look at least 3 sizes to big for her. Everything she owns is baggy. Nothing of hers shows off her curves. Yet, she still looks amazing in every thing she wears, while everything I own shows off my lumps & makes me look nasty. No matter if I try to buy clothes too big, I still feel like you can see my rolls.

Kia once told me the reason she doesn't care about the way she dresses is because she knows she's beautiful. I mean if you know you're beautiful why not make yourself look even better by dressing the part. You get what I'm saying? She tells me I should look myself into the mirror each day before bed and point out a new thing I like about myself & why I like it. As if I'd find anything I like on this frame I'm working with.

The only thing about me that I've never had any problem with at all was my height. I like being short, I'm about 5'1. I hate my weight. 132lbs. My shortness makes me look so fat. Sometimes I cry when I'm alone. I've created a wall of self hate that I can honestly say I need to get help with. 

I've been called beautiful before, but I never think it's sincere because I know I'm not. I mean look at me, I look crazy. But I think I'm the only one who thinks that. People stare at me, for long periods of time. I wonder if they think I'm pretty or if I'm ugly. Or what if they're just staring because I got stuff all over my face? I worry too much about looks even though I know I shouldn't really care about what everybody thinks... Or what I think mainly.

Why can't I just accept me for me?

Am I crazy?

What is the true definition of beautiful? I'm going to embark in a journey to get the answer to that question.

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A/N: Hey my lovely readers, your votes and comments mean a lot to me. So please don't forget to do both if you liked this chapter. I also want to thank you for taking time to read my book.

Is there anything you like about the story already even though you are only in the 1st chapter? I don't mind constructive criticism. :)