The Nose That Changed Everything

I come from a generation that watched our celebrities alter their noses — narrowing, reshaping, and refining — just to be seen, to get work, to survive in an image-obsessed world. We didn’t just watch; we learned.

And the lesson trickled down.

Photo by VARZFILMS

As a child, I was teased relentlessly for my nose. Every cruel word left its mark. Broad noses like mine — like so many in my family — were mocked and measured against beauty ideals that were never meant for us.

I no longer blame the kids. (Therapy. Get in there.) The media taught us the lessons we were supposed to learn. We were smart kids. We caught on. “Something is different about you so that means something is wrong with you.”

Years later, when I began thinking about having children, the question came back to me. One day, in a room full of friends, I said half-jokingly, “If I ever got surgery to ‘fix’ my nose, what would my kids look like? What nose would they have?”

Without missing a beat, one of my friends laughed and said, “They gon’ look just like what you look like now.”
And we all burst into laughter.

But behind the laughter, there was truth.

When my son was born, I saw it instantly. He had so many of my features — especially my nose. As he grew, the resemblance became unmistakable. I’d walk up to people and introduce myself as his mother-pulling out ids….., and they’d say, “You didn’t need to do all that. It’s obvious.”

For years, we looked like twins.

And in that mirror — his little face reflecting mine — I knew I’d made the right decision.

I thought back to that teasing, to the shame that had once shadowed me. I didn’t want my child to inherit that same insecurity. I didn’t want him to look at me one day and think, “She hated it too.”

Photo by JEaLiFe Pictures

So I decided to love my nose. To wear it with pride and distinction. The nose of African and Black American ancestry — the same nose my ancestors carried through storms, sweat, and sunlight.

Once I embraced that, something shifted. I began to see every part of myself differently — my skin, my hair, my shape. The same features I once tried to hide began to feel sacred. Like connection. 

And that love made a difference — first inside me, then radiating outward.

We all have that power.
People from every background.

Life is about learning to love yourself first — to honor what you were given — and then letting that light spill over into the world.

🌿 Affirmations: The Beauty I Inherited

• I carry my ancestors’ beauty in every line and curve of my face.

• My features tell stories of strength, endurance, and joy.

• I no longer shrink from what the world tried to make me hate.

• My reflection is not a mistake; it’s a continuation.

• Every part of me was crafted with intention and purpose.

• My nose is not too broad, too big, or too different — it is perfectly mine.

• When I walk into a room, I bring generations with me.

• The features I once questioned are now my crown.

• Loving myself taught me how to love my lineage.

• I honor the face my child sees when they look at me.

• My glow begins with self-acceptance and extends to everyone I meet.

• I am not a revision of anyone else’s beauty. I am original design.

• I speak love over what was once teased, dismissed, or misunderstood.

• My self-love is an inheritance I pass forward — whole and unbroken.