I’m beautiful.
I grew up with Dad telling me I was the prettiest in the world, so I knew that I was beautiful, without a single doubt, from a very young age as far as I could remember.
People at the cafeteria served me extra amounts. Strangers confessed they had a crush on me. They gave me their contact information.
The accumulation of affection from total strangers backed up Dad’s words and eventually built up my confidence.
“Dad, when did you realize you’re attractive?”
From the mug he was holding in his right hand, the freshly made coffee was giving off s…