DUCK LIPS- and Self-Acceptance

I was going through old photos, and I came across this one. At first, I giggled, sent it to my friends and daughter so we could all giggle at it, and mock myself. Then, I looked at her again, this woman who has my eyes, hair, and human suit, but decided she wasn’t good enough, so she put lip implants into her lips! WTF?!?!?!? I don’t know this woman; I don’t know who she is anymore. I am so far from this woman; I want to hug her and coach her to step into her power and back into her authentic self! I want to do several sessions with her, share her light with her, and show her that she is perfect, whole, and complete as she is, without changing a fucking thing about her!

I see the sadness in her eyes; I see duck lips. I see a woman who desperately wants to be seen and loved just as she is, without wanting her to be an image that can only be attained with surgical/filler intervention or genetics.

It was not in my Irish DNA to have big breasts, big lips, tan skin, bleach blonde hair. I was born with small B boobs, pear shape body, average size lips, pale white skin, and red/blonde hair. I am and will never be a Playboy image again; I did this before, I attained it, I did. If you/I go to my old pictures on social media and some of you may remember me then, you will see it; I achieved the look. I had the help of breast implants that were poisoning me; I had the lip implants for about one…