Complexes. The word plague, one that makes lose confidence when they pointed the finger.
I do not think mistaken if I dare say that it has all of the complexes. From the simplest to resolve the most difficult, the most visible to the innermost. Regardless of its nature, when a complex moves in our lives, there are only two solutions: do with or act.
Of course, the ideal would be to accept it, to take it as a part of who we are, what we defined. That one is born with or it is clear marks of life. But let's be honest, the side "Relax / I'm very well well" is often a gentle utopia.
I have several complexes. Or rather I have one comprising several: my legs.
My legs marked by life just following a major health problem I had child. My knees have kept track, and so far the only solution that has been proposed to me is the surgery without assurance of a definitive change. My legs, more generally, paid my brutal stop of the sport. One time, I liked them. Time when I was 8 hours of dance each week. The word "Sport" is more so part of my life, this is the term "Cellulitis" which replaced it. Much less glamorous, though less pleasant.
A few weeks ago I had a proposal that I could not refuse and which just allowed me to Act (although I tried various methods before!): test two months during the Wellbox®.