My sister and I often say that our hands are 20 years our senior. Like, if someone just saw our hands and not the rest of our bodies they might presume us middle-aged. Both of us suffered from eczema off and on since we were kids, but more than that, our hands are just DRY.
I once had someone say that if they only saw a portrait of my face they would assume the rest of me was chubby. I kind of thought that was funny until I was running in a race in gym class and my classmates told me later that my cheeks move up and down when I run, like someone facing a wind machine.
About a decade ago, a middle-aged woman gasped when she saw my bare legs and asked me what had happened. Had I fallen? I looked down, confused, until I registered that my knees looked bruised because my skin is so mottled.
One person, who shall remain nameless, once asked if I would consider getting a boob job. Not, like, a question of principal, but just whether I wanted bigger boobs.
People always tell me I look very ERECT when I run. Must look ridiculous, but I think I do it to keep all my lanky appendages from flailing, thus making me more aero-dynamic.
I do love my body. I would change a few things, you know, if God was asking. Also, if I got to make everything perfect my sister and I would have considerably less to laugh about . That counts for something, you know?