I say I’m not pretty.

I say I’m not pretty. Not because I’m looking for attention or compliments, but because that’s truly how I feel. I don’t believe that I am pretty because I can see everything you don’t. I see how my stomach looks when I’m standing in my bra. I see the face under the make-up. I see every little flaw about myself, even if you can’t. I say I’m not pretty because I’d be lying if I said I was.