Even on my birthday, I can’t escape the feeling that I might be unattractive, and it’s making me sad . ‎

As the sun rises on another day, its warmth fails to penetrate the heavy cloud of loneliness that envelopes me. Today, on my  birthday, the weight of unspoken expectations hangs in the air, and the silence is deafening. It’s a painful realization that, despite my imperfections, the absence of well-wishes cuts deep, leaving an indelible mark on the day that is supposed to be a celebration of my existence.

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