There is something to be said for the amount of insanely attractive men I see who are with woman who are ugly. I know I will be crucified for saying these things, but it’s time someone acknowledged it. What is it that defines the laws of attraction? There are those of us who think, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, or even, “it’s what’s on the inside that counts”. But isn’t that just what we said to our overweight, uglier friends when we were in high school? Did we mean it? Was the joke really on us the whole time? Still, as a single, twentysomething year old woman who can admittedly acknowledge the fact that I am more than moderately attractive, I have to wonder, does my personality just suck?
I see it every day. You can tell when there is a woman who is trapped inside the appearance of someone who gave up on trying. To me, these are the worst kinds. They just don’t care anymore. They used to be beautiful, but somewhere along the way they got comfortable. They settled. There was no reason to try and impress anyone anymore. They’re out with their gorgeous husbands, who just stand there looking tired and defeated, and more often than not, embarrassed. Like they know everyone’s looking at them. And know who’s looking at them? The pretty girls. Wondering, “What the fuck am I doing wrong? Maybe I should just start wearing track pants in public too.”
And then there are the woman who don’t fit into any conventional category of beauty. And like a knife to my narcissist ego, they have the biggest fucking rock you can imagine, one that was bought with careful attention to detail, one that was bought out of a passionate want to show their love, and I’m just in awe. And I’m also jealous. And I’m also fucking confused. Where did I go wrong? I’ve spent a better part of the last ten years paying careful attention to my appearance. I can’t remember the last time I wore sweatpants in public. And the only time I wear yoga pants is if I’m taking an actual yoga class. But the guys I seem to attract all have certain qualities in common that everything I’m trying to put out there is supposed to send the message, “I’m out of your league”. Who comes up to me in a bar? A creep. Who asks me out on a date? Someone who needs to be picked up. Who send me flowers at work on Valentine’s Day? The guy who cheated on my after a 5 year relationship in hopes I’ll take him back.
So maybe it’s time we take a page from the playbook of all the ugly woman who’ve landed a gorgeous husband who has a job, who has a car. Who has a friggen bank account at this point, amiright? Maybe it’s time to stop paying attention to when I need my hair colored. Maybe I don’t need to spend twenty minutes in front of the mirror everyday making sure I have just the right amount of makeup on to create the illusion that I’m not wearing any at all. Maybe I should just cut my hair, my defining feature. My one and a half foot long, deep chestnut colored mane that I spend 45 minutes a day on, and settle for a shapeless ponytail of indifference.
Teach me your ways, ugly, fat woman of America. No for real, I’m asking. Teach me your secrets. Because at this point, I’m willing to try almost anything. At this point, I’m willing to go into this headfirst with just my personality to guide me. And I’m not quite sure what’s scarier to me, taking off my eye shadow or my ego. But if it means I’ll finally find what I’m looking for, who doesn’t want to wear sweatpants everyday anyway?