Archive for unattractive

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

{ March 13, 2009 @ 3:41 am } · { Facebook, aging, unattractive, what am I doing with my life?, worries }
{ } · { Comments (2) }

So a lot of my friends on Facebook have been posting old photographs lately, from high school and even some from junior high.  I don’t mind, I like looking at them.  Those years were a really great time in my life (although I had plenty of teenage angst, of course), and I get nostalgic looking at that stuff. 

However.

One of my “friends” posted several pictures from junior high.  It is a boy I knew in grade school/junior high, but I was never really great friends with him and I don’t remember speaking with him much once we were in high school.  But he’s on Facebook, and I like to see what people are doing and I enjoy leaving nice comments on Facebook, so I accepted his friends request.  Then I started getting email after email that he had tagged me in some photos.  Obviously I knew they had to be old since I haven’t seen him in so many years, and I went to check them out.  

He had posted picture after picture of me.  First a picture of me and my little junior high boyfriend (gnarly sloppy kisser, by the way).  Then he posted a picture of he and I at a school dance (not sure how that happened because we surely never dated).  He added a few more, and I was relieved to see that some of the others included other people, not just me.  But I was in all but one of them.  I started to feel a little weird about it, because like I said, we were never that good of friends.  But obviously it is harmless.

So then another girl commented on the photograph of me and him, wondering if I was his second date for this same dance, as he had posted a picture of himself and another girl at the same dance), and he said, “oh no, [Jem] is second to no one in my opinion.”

Folks, I am a sucker for ANY kind of flattery.  It made me feel good.  More than it should have, I think.

It’s just that when I look back at all of those photos from when I was younger, I can remember the confidence I had then.  I was always self-conscious, mind you, but I don’ t know, I just had a confidence then that I don’t have now.  I was cuter.  Thinner.  I felt a lot shinier then than I do now.  Does that makes sense? 

I sent one of the pictures from when I was 18 to a friend of mine who didn’t know me back then.  It took her a while to figure out which one of those girls was me.  Yikes.  She said, but [Jem], you still look the same.  You have gained weight, yes, but you could be that girl again.

Um, no.  I will never be that girl again.  She was 18.  I am 31.  She had naturally blond hair, thighs that didn’t touch, and no student loans.   Virtually no responsibilities whatsoever.  She used to walk down the football player’s hallway (which had a nasty smell, btw) in her tennis skirt and pretend she didn’ t know they were looking at her.    She could go buy a prom dress without worry about her arm flab and ginormous boobs. 

I can’t get back the youthful naivete and blissful ignorance that she had then.  Nor can I get back the flawless skin.  I try to tell myself that the thing I have now add up to more than what she had.  Those old pictures?  That’s what I looked like when I was proud of myself, and I don’t know how to explain it except to say that I don’t look like that anymore. 

I’m concerned I’m one of those cliche girls who peaked in high school.  I need to pick myself up and make some changes.  And I don’t mean to make it sound like there is so much wrong with my life or who I am not; there’s not.  I just want to polish it up and make it shine a little, you know?

I guess that’s why they call it the blues…

{ June 25, 2008 @ 4:32 am } · { dating, is it just me?, life, love, neuroses, relationships, unattractive }
{ } · { Comments (8) }

SF (and Elton John)- thanks for the title.  Didn’t mean to steal it from you, but it fit. 

Kinda blue today.

I don’t know why, specifically.  A combination of not feeling all that well and stress at work.

But whenever I’m in this kind of mood, I tend to take it out on my relationship with B.  All of my negative feelings surface and I focus on them.

I need this boy to love me in a way that I don’t think he does.  I want him to be captivated by my words, find me beautiful, think that I’m brilliant and funny, basically adore me and be proud to be with me. 

Ok, so maybe that’s a little bit too much.  I’m a real person with real flaws, and I don’t expect them to go unnoticed.  But at the very least, I would like him to, no, I need him to be interested in what I’m talking about, engage in conversation with me, understand my sense of humor, and in general, be happy to be with me.  I don’t mind conflict or argument (I am an attorney, for Pete’s sake, so I can handle it), and I think you need to have some conflict in your relationship so that wants and needs can be more defined and understood.

It’s not that B isn’t a good boyfriend.  He is.  He treats me very respectfully, and he would do anything for me.  But I don’t always think he gets me.  Sometimes I feel like I’m just someone for him to be with.  Like his love for me has nothing to do with me personally.  I would be afraid to ask him what it is that he likes/loves about me, because I’m very nervous that he wouldn’t be able to come up with an answer. 

Part of the problem is that it is not his nature to really discuss his feelings.  I asked him about a month ago about affection in his family.  Basically what he told me is that there is none.  His parents never showed him physical affection or told him that they loved him.  They are nice people, and certainly do love their family (and he knows that), but like a lot of people, it just isn’t their way to openly express it. 

My family is not entirely different.  My dad is affectionate, my mom isn’t.  My relationship with her doesn’t suffer for it – we are very close.  And she is better now than she used to be, but she isn’t a huggy,  PTA type of mother.  My dad on the other hand (as well as his extended family) is affectionate.  He liked to hug me as a child, and hold my hand and tuck me in at night. 

So as B and I had this conversation, he said, “oh, so you are more like your dad.”  And I had never really thought of myself that way.  Because affection is not that easy for me to give in a romantic relationship.  I have to get it before I can get it.  The more comfortable I am, the easier it is, but I don’t jump into a relationship quickly, physically or emotionally.   And B is reasonably phsyically affectionate.  It comes in waves.  He was definitely more affectionate at the beginning our of relationship than he is now.    And so I’ve become fairly affectionate with him, and now I do a lot more touching than he does.

Anyway, I got off track there.  Anyway, I know that just because B doesn’t express his feeling for me doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have them.  Of course, he tells me that he loves me.  But in a more perfunctory way, at certain times, like when I’m leaving.  Not in a “I’m really feeling it right now” kind of way.  And that is ok, I don’t necessarily need him saying the words all the time.  But I need to feel it somehow.  We have moments when I feel it.  But I’m not sure it all adds up to enough. 

I need to know that there are specific things that he likes about me.  I need to know that he finds me attractive.  I need to know that he wants to be with me, that he misses me when we are apart all week every week.  I need our phone conversations during the week to be at least a little more than just a recitation of our days.  I hate to fish for compliments.  I find it humiliating to ask if he finds me attractive, if he misses me, to make a joke about him finding me charming.   But I do it, because sometimes I need to hear it.  But when I do fish for it?  Still NOTHING. 

For example, here is an exchange we had tonight.  And believe me, I’m embarrassed even to write this.  But anyway:

Me:  I still haven’t taken my dress (for a wedding this weekend) in to get hemmed yet.  I definitely need to do that tomorrow.

B:  Why didn’t you do that today?

Me:   Well, just because when I came home from work I wasn’t feeling well, so I took a nap, and just didn’t end up to getting around to it.  Plus, I feel self-conscious when I have to put on a dress for the tailor to pin up.  I’m always worried they are thinking that I shouldn’t be wearing this dress.  I know that is stupid, considering I’ll be wearing the dress in public on Saturday, but I can’t help it.

B:  I’m sure they’ve seen everything.

Me:  I know.  But I don’t want them to put me in that same category:  gnarly people they have to deal with.

B:  I’m sure its fine.

Me:  Do you think I’m gnarly?

B:  No.

Me:…..do you think I’m cute?

B:  Yeah (in an unconvincing tone of voice).

Now, mind you, I know my part of that conversation was nothing to brag about.  I’m not saying that I don’t have my issues.   But seriously, the best compliment I ever get from him is “you look nice”.  And that doesn’t come very often, believe me.

I truly don’t think I’m needy.  I don’t need him to hang all over me, I don’t need him to shower me with compliments.  But I need SOMETHING.  Anything, really.  Some spark of life, some indication that I mean something to him. 

I know that he loves me in some sense.  I know that he sees me in his future.   We’ve made vacations plans, he’s talked about us moving in together at some point, things like that.  But I need to be more than just a person to be with. 

I know, I need, I need, I need.  I don’t mean to make it sound like the relationship is all about me.  But my blog is.   And honestly, if he needs something from me that I’m not giving, I would be happy to hear it, really.  I would honestly be happy that he gives our relationship some thought, as well as thinking about what he is looking for.  I don’t want to be unreasonable.  And having very little experience with relationships, I just don’t know.  What is reasonable and what isn’t?  I know relationships have ups and downs and everything is not all candlelight and roses and grand gestures of love.  Like I said, I know still waters run deep.  And I understand that not everyone expresses their feelings very freely and openly.  I certainly don’t.  But I gotta have something. 

Ignore me.  I’m just in a mood.

I’m not her

{ February 7, 2008 @ 6:43 pm } · { dating, neuroses, random thoughts, relationships, size, unattractive, worries }
{ } · { Comments (2) }

I’ve been having a hard time coming up with material to write about lately.   I guess that is probably obvious to those of you who read my blog.  I don’t know if it is the result of the the winter blahs or just a boring life, but I apologize to those of you who are looking for interesting stuff to read. 

Lent snuck up on me this year like it always does.  Now, I am Catholic, but I’m not exactly devout.  Not even close, really, but for some reason I always observe Lent.  This year I am giving up swearing.  I have done this in the past, but for whatever reason, it never sticks very well long-term.  I have the face of a 13 year old girl, but the mouth of a sailor.  It is not very ladylike.  I blame it on my job.  This is the only place I’ve ever worked where it was appropriate (and probably even necessary) to swear.  When I first started working here, my boss came to me after about two weeks and told me that he and the others had been talking, and they thought it was odd that I never swore.  I told him that I do swear, but I’ve never worked in a place where it was acceptable.  Now, some six years later, I have a mouth that I probably shouldn’t kiss my grandmother with. 

But last night I was talking to B, and he said, instead of giving something up (he is Catholic too, and even less devout than I am, which is barely possible), maybe we should DO something affirmative instead.  Ok, I said, what do you have in mind?  He told me that he was thinking that we should commit to going to the gym at least four times a week (on our own, not together). 

Not a bad idea, right? 

Except he already goes to the gym nearly every day.  So mostly, he just wants ME to go to the gym.  He thinks I’m a fat pig (to paraphrase).  I don’t like that.  It hurt my feelings.  I know I need to get in shape and lose weight.  I’m not blind.   But I need to date someone who thinks I’m cute.   And I don’t think he does.  I can remember him telling me ONE time, in over a year that we’ve been dating, that I’m “pretty cute”.  Just the one time.    And that was roughly the third date (and thus he was trying to get lucky). 

I know this is shallow and superficial, and probably says something about how I am insecure and need someone to feed my ego, but I don’t care.  I don’t need endless gushing about how beautiful I am, but I need something.  I can’t get naked in front of someone who thinks I’m fat.   I know I need to go to the gym, I don’t need him to tell me that. 

And frankly?  Suggesting to me that I get my fat ass to the gym does not exactly inspire me to do so.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  My first inclination is to act like a 15 year old and rebel.  To say, screw you (see, I’m already doing better with the language thing), now I DEFINITELY am not going to the gym.  Ever.  And yes, I have been known to cut my nose off to spite my face. 

My friend Jaded told me that men are just like that.  They think that they are all entitled to date someone with the looks of a supermodel, regardless of what they look like themselves.  If that is the case, perhaps they should concentrate on trying to land such a woman, instead of trying to turn some average (but well-meaning) woman into a supermodel.  Jaded said that they know that can’t get those perfect-looking women so they have to go with plan B, which is apparently trying to make a girl like me look better.  And readers?  I already try to do the very best I can.  Every single day.  I try to dress nice, I’m well groomed, I always style my hair, wear make-up, wear heels.  I am bigger than I should be, yes, but I’m not schlumpy. 

*Sigh*  I’ve never thought of myself as a girl that a guy has to settle for.  Some begruding, this-is-the-best-I-can-do kind of girlfriend.  I don’t like that.  I won’t be some girl who is just good enough to make the cut, but nothing to write home about.  I’m not that girl.  I am not.   And if I have to, I’ll keep repeating that until both B and I believe it.   

          

A Hairy Situation

{ January 14, 2008 @ 4:24 am } · { is it just me?, random thoughts, unattractive }
{ } · { Comments (6) }

I was inspired to write this post after reading a post by MollyElizabeth regarding her new-found talent of hairwaxing. 

What do we think about hairy men, readers??

I was always grossed out by seriously hairy men.  I would see men at the pool virtually covered in dark hair, like some kind of modern day wooly mammouth man.     I would look away, gagging a little in my mouth, reluctant to reenter the water lest some of that hair float up on me (as though that is the worst thing one can encounter at a public pool).   Even now I shudder just thinking about it.   And what is almost worse?  How men can have weird patches of hair pretty much everywhere.  I’ve seen men who aren’t overly hairy in general, but might have a random patch of hair on the side of his back or elsewhere.  For some reason that really creeps me out.

 So I started dating B, and the first few times we fooled around a little, he always kept his shirt on.  The first night I stayed the night with him, he finally took off his shirt, and as I reached over to him in the dark, I felt, well, hair.  Hair covering his back, his chest, and yes, even his shoulders.  Fuzzy little hair.  I silently screamed in my head – I was so completely blindsided.  It hadn’t even occurred to me that he might be totally hairy – I always thought that was reserved for black-haired men, not my light brown-haired B. 

But, then I got over it.  Fairly quickly even.   It’s hair.  So I can now touch that fuzzy hair on his shoulders just as easily as I can touch the hair on his head, although he does keep his shirt on most of the time.  But seriously, thank heavens he doesn’t have LONG black hair covering his body like one man I always see at the pool.  Love or no love, that crap is gross. 

On a completely unrelated note – SF, can’t you do something to end this writers’ strike??  I’m going to be pretty pissed off when Thursday rolls around and there is no new Grey’s Anatomy episode.   My only saving grace is that Lost will be coming back on, and considering they skipped the entire fall season, they do have a number of episodes already written. 

Ok, I have to go now and mentally prepare myself for the beginning of another new week.  *Sigh*     

Pain in the ass…..

{ January 10, 2008 @ 2:58 am } · { clothing, dating, random thoughts, size, unattractive, worries }
{ } · { Leave a Comment }

Two posts in one day.  This is a personal record for me. 

So in addition to the very very lovely crocs that B bought me for Christmas (oh, and Jess, I saw you making fun of my crocs on Kara’s comments – come on now, don’t hate just because I have beautiful shoes :) ), he also gave me some panties from Victoria’s Secret.  And alas, I have figured out what Victoria’s Secret actually is – she caters only to very small girls.  A club to which I very regrettably do not belong. 

And, so, while it makes me a little nauseous to tell you, dear internets, my panty size, I will do so for the sake of this story.  B asked me a while back for my sizes (which I reluctantly told him), my underwear size being one of them.  I told him  a size large/7.  Yes, I know, this is not a small butt.  Yes, a large butt with an inexplicably flat shape.  The best of both worlds, no?  But anyway, it is what it is. 

So, what I’ve learned is this:  a large/7  granny-panty that one buys at, say, Kohl’s, is not the same size as a cute little (but thankfully not thong) panty that one buys at VS.  I cannot imagine B holding up one of those little panties at VS and possibly thinking it might fit my butt.  However, bless his heart, he went ahead (probably for the sake of our relationship) and bought the L/7 panties. 

So I brought them home and thought I would just go exchange them for an XL and he would never know.  Wrong.  Vickie’s doesn’t carry an XL in this particular line.  Bitches!!  And yes, I could probably just exchange them for some other panties at VS that would work, but I wanted to get the same exact ones so that he wouldn’t notice, and I wouldn’t have to explain to him how I had to go back and exchange them for some panties that came in EXTRA LARGE.  And so it is that I am stuck with the L.  Most of them will be ok, although half of my ass will probably be hanging out.  It is really only one pair that would just be completely ridiculous, so I’ll avoid those. 

Being a woman is fun, no?  Oh, and Victoria, I’ll let you in on a secret……some of us ladies are a little more…um…shapely than others.  And while you, me, and perhaps most of the free world would rather not see me in a skimpy pair of sexy panties, my boyfriend does.  Big girls need panties too.  Help a sister out.