I accept my self-image.

A self-image is a composite sketch, assembled from strange sources: a school photograph, one remark from an aunt in 1998, the way you look on a video call, which is nobody's real face.

Accepting it isn't declaring it accurate. It's putting down the daily argument with it — the running commentary that starts at the mirror and follows you to work.

A great deal of energy is tied up in that argument. Most people find out how much only when it stops for a day or two, and the morning suddenly has more room in it.