30 Days of Truth: Day Twelve

Something you never get compliments on.

My eyes.

Although they are hazel and not really that special, I’ve always thought I have quite pretty eyes. They’re sparkley and sincere.

I have gotten two compliments in my entire life on them. One from a boyfriend I had when I was 15 (although I suspect he may have said it because he thought that’s what I’d like to hear and the raging hard-on that I didn’t dare touch compelled him to tell me whatever the hell would get me to touch that thing) (I did like the compliment) (still didn’t touch the thing).

The other time was my grade 12 boyfriend’s mother told him I had sparkley eyes and he told me. Plus, she’s an artist, like a real live one with paintings at the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia so there, it’s true. I have nice eyes.

Alas, if any of you have seen a picture of Leila, who officially has the most stunning eyes you have ever seen, or a picture of her father, whose thick dark lashes, flirty stares, and striking blue eyes draw people to him, well, you’d understand why my mere hazels get overlooked.

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