Cacophonic Faces, Euphoric Songs

This morning I caught my reflection in the elevator doors and immediately began to scrutinize my hair and make up. While I do consider myself a confident person, very rarely does anyone look at themselves and feel a sense of admiration and enjoyment. We inspect ourselves, finding our greatest flaws: a blemish or freckle, an age spot or wrinkle, an eye smaller than its partner...

I find it strange that we constantly berate ourselves for our physical imperfections, yet somehow we are all blessed with the ability to sustain and appreciate our own singing, regardless of how out of tune. How curious that we fail to recognize our own beauty, yet our ears deceive us to believe that our attempts at harmony are euphoric. I do wonder the rationale behind instilling in each of us this unbalanced assessment of our appearance and musical talents...

Could the fault lie with the wiring of our inner workings or perhaps the culprit is society?