If you don't believe me go and have a look here.
Am I right? Those of you who don't know my regular charming good looks may be
fooled into thinking that this is my daily appearance, but you would be way off
the mark. I am not a bad looking bloke, even if I do say so myself, and have
managed to dig out the best of my genetic code and handed it on to my beautiful
young daughter – lucky gal!
Naturally I haven't always felt reasonably
comfortable with my appearance, like most teenagers, I wished for a fairy
godmother to wave a magic wand or, at the very least, a paper bag that didn't
dissolve in the rain. Acne, lack of height and a lengthy period wearing
spectacles, not glasses, but spectacles left me dangerously named and exposed
in nerd territory – I even liked Star Trek, which didn't help my dress sense
either.
Medication cured the acne, a painful growth
spurt brought me up to average height and contact lenses were a gift from the
gods, but there were still issues. As I approached my 18th birthday my mum
asked what I wanted for a gift, but when my mind went blank she jokingly
suggested a nose job. Years later, the topic of the nose job came up and she
was shocked to discover that I, Cyrano de Bergerac, hadn't taken it as a joke.
My life had increasingly more
self-conscious moments as the years rolled on, especially on a weekend to Paris
that was destined to become the "Will you marry me?" trip. My future
wife and I were strolling along the Seine when a persistent caricature artiste
captured her in his chair and his cartoonist friend then grabbed me. After a
few minutes of scribbling and colouring they proudly show the childish result
and announce an outrageous fee. Following some angry negotiation, my artist
angrily declares, "Well, I could have drawn your chin bigger – you have
big chin!"
A big nose AND a big chin! I felt as though
my face was swelling up like it had an allergic reaction to a bee sting – at
least they weren't the only big things on my body that were large and swollen.
Anyway, finding shoes to fit by large and swollen fit proved tough on occasion…
what part of my body did you think I was discussing? The whole body image thing
is tiring and even though my wife casually pointed out that my stomach has
become larger the other day I desperately try to ignore it all.
You know the worst part? As time passed by
I have discovered that it isn't just physical attributes that attract attention
from vicious observers. Every week I co-host a live radio show with a Greek
friend and it was due to this show that my voice came under fire from a forum
user: "The Greek certainly came across better, the Brit sounded a bit
smarmy and false." What! Smarmy and false… come on! I do not sound slimy,
but then if you pair the slimy voice with the sleazy photo on FREE!'s front
page there's little left for me to do, except become a lawyer.