Nearly everyone, when they are young, don’t care what they look like. They are happy in their skin because they have never thought to be anything else. Then they reach an age when they question their appearances, or worse, other people question them, and they begin to pick out their imperfections and form an idea in their head of what perfection looks like. Then years of accepting that it is an impossible perfection, and trying not to be critical of the face that looks back in the mirror. And realising that even those people who are so beautiful to us in every way probably think that their nose is too big or their smile crooked. Eventually learning to accept ourselves.