What would you change about the way you look? The shape of your nose, the width of your hips, the length of your hair? I've lost count of how many "flaws" my friends have listed about themselves, which is why I always feel that fog of awkwardness descend when I stay silent. Because, honestly, I wouldn't change a thing about the way I look.
I like my slightly chubby cheeks, the messy wave of my hair and even the fact that my stomach isn't completely toned and flat. No, I don't always look my best; I work from home and spend most days in joggers and a T-shirt, with un-brushed hair and a makeup free face proudly displaying my spots and under-eye bags. But I'm as comfortable with my appearance then as when I have a full face of makeup for a night out.
That doesn't mean people haven't ridiculed the way I look. I'll never forget the first time it happened. I was 11, with mixed European and Mediterranean heritage, and my skin was sallow, especially around my mouth. "Ew, gross!" exclaimed a boy in my class, fixing his eyes on the colour difference around my lips and chin. "You look like Homer Simpson!"
Then there was the non-uniform day later that year, when a boy imitated vomiting at my legs in fishnet tights and a denim skirt. As I hit puberty, my genes also led to dark body hair, so 'gorilla' was added to the litany of insults.
It wouldn't be surprising if I grew to despise my appearance, but the taunts failed to break my deeply-held belief that I wasn't ugly, that I was pretty. Despite my mental health issues leading to plenty of personal insecurities (I'm "too awkward", "too blunt", "too unlikeable"), my physical appearance never concerned me. Where my social life was a source of anguish, my appearance gave me a quiet confidence that I clung to.
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So why does it still feel taboo, as a woman, to admit that you're comfortable with - even like - the way you look? It's "big-headed", "boastful", "self-obsessed". It's as if, like my girl mates and their "flaws", a woman's default setting should be to dislike, obsess about and even mock her own looks.
According to counsellor Katy Georgiou (kgcounsellor.com), this is because of the constant patriarchal messages that encourage women to scrutinise their appearance. "In books and films, there's traditionally an emphasis on a woman's looks to indicate her worth," she says. "Perhaps it's a detailed description of her appearance, or a story arc about a beautiful woman winning her love interest - they're hailed for their flawlessness, and it's integral to their character. As a result, we're taught to modify our looks, and put ourselves down as an acceptance strategy."
It's why the findings of a recent poll made me sad, but didn't surprise me. One in ten of us think we look "awful" without make-up, while 41% feel self-conscious. As a result, one in 20 British men have never seen their other half without make-up.
And it's not just books and the big screen. Brands often develop advertising campaigns based on correcting "imperfections". Last year, The Advertising Standards Agency announced plans to ban ads which "perpetuate sexist stereotypes", such as Protein World's Beach Body Ready campaign.
Progress has been made in some areas; brands including Missguided and ASOS have stopped removing models' stretch marks in their images. But until these so-called "imperfections" become the norm, and women are championed for their intellect and talents over their looks, then liking our appearance will continue to be taboo.
For women who struggle with their appearance, simply being told by friends they look good won't be enough to undo a deep-set belief. Maybe that's something only they can overcome. That's exactly why, when we find something we like about ourselves, we should be able to admit it freely, without feeling embarrassed, guilty or judged. We should celebrate it. After all, my round cheeks, eye bags and frizzy hair are part of what makes me me. And I'm not sorry to say that I wouldn't change a thing.