Semi-Aquiline

As per usual before heading off to Sonoraland, I face my bathroom mirror. I look at that image on that piece of glass, that same visage I stare at every night, whilst washing away the Clean and Clear. But for some reason, a brief sentence uttered that afternoon pops into my head. Its weight washes over me, and I just had to heed it. That's when I focused, and I noticed it. I tilted my head this way and that to prove those words right. This was when I realised, "OMG! Dad was absolutely correct. My nose now has a semblance of aquiline-ness!".

That's right. I'm dedicating this entry to my nose.

Now, before you go off and think of me unusually and exceedingly peculiar, let me explain.

As I've mentioned in previous entries, I'm actually multi-racial. I'm an international pastiche of Filipino, Caucasian American, French, Indian, Hungarian, Spanish, and who knows what. It's something quite apparent in my looks. I've always carried proudly my big, deeply-set Indian eyes and my French-ish cheek bones. And of course, I love them. There is, however, one part of my face that I admit to loathing.

When I was young, my nose squatted. Yes, literally. It was one of those big, flat noses without a prominent nose bridge. Yes, I do realise now that it's nothing but a normal, Southeast Asian nose, but for someone who grew up with siblings whose Indian and Caucasian roots were very much apparent, this was a malady. I kept asking myself why my nose isn't the "matangos" (Tagalog for "aquiline", for my international readers) standard my brothers and sisters had. I kept wondering why the Australia-purchased sunglasses my aunts gave me never stayed on (since they were made for Aussie nose bridges). Yes, I grew to hate my nose.

So, I did everything to make my nose bridge a little more accommodating of foreign eye wear. I massaged and pinched my nose bridge, sometimes, to the point of getting long scratches on it due to fingernail abrasion. Those big cuts on it, I reasoned, were the price to pay if I wanted one of those Caucasian aquiline probosces. One time, I even incurred a little scar on the side of my nose from pinching it too much before going to bed. Thank God for anti-scar cream applied to that little area.

It got to a point that I considered buying Cleopatra (that home TV shopping spring device you put in your nose to make it sharper). Of course, now I realise that it was ludicrous, but to a little girl with image issues, it made perfect sense.

Last week, whilst having coffee with my parents, my Dad suddenly asked me to tilt my head up. I promptly did so, and that's when he uttered those words that resounded in me in front of that bathroom mirror:

"Allie, ang tangos na rin pala ng ilong mo!" ("Allie, your nose is aquiline now.")

Wow! I've waited 21 years to hear those words uttered by my Mediterranean-nosed father. Finally, it has happened!

Yeah? What was that? Who cares? Well, good! That was my point.

Who cares? No matter how your nose looks like --- flat or aquiline, small as a button or very much apparent --- it looks lovely simply because it's your nose. Like I've been hammering in many a blog entry, every person (and so, every person's nose) is beautiful. Sure, it may not be standard, model-carried features. But, who says that is the only definition of beauty?

Now that I finally have a nose that reflects my multi-culti roots, I have to say, that I love it. But at the same time, I also realise that even back in my Southeast Asian proboscis days, it has always been beautiful.

I just failed to see it because of those Cleopatra ads! Ew!