The Disfigured Man

Sometimes we do things that we regret. Other times, we unconsciously react in ways that make us question our own self-worth. I had one such experience, when I saw this particularly disfigured man on my way home. This was no stranger to me, for I had seen him before. What made me question my integrity was my very visceral and automatic aversion to his appearance.

Now, this was no ordinary disfigurement. Something was wrong with his face, making the flesh appear to be sagging and thus dripping from his face. Imagine that the face was made of gelatinous putty, and someone dragged the whole mass downwards. That was how it looked.

Ordinarily, I would pride myself in not being affected by or discriminate against people on the grounds of their appearances. The strong, nearly physical reaction of shock I get whenever I see his face is something that bothers me greatly. Perhaps my conviction to be non-discriminatory was not that strong after all?

Logically, this would not automatically make me a bad person. After all, it really is something that is greatly out of the norms and thus really quite shocking. Moreover, I was able to get a grip and not flee in a panic after the initial shock. Still, it reminded me of just how I've come to accept what fits within the norms of appearance, and how such a deviation from the norm can be deeply disturbing.