On beauty

You know how some beautiful women know they are beautiful but they still fish for compliments by saying things like "but I'm not as pretty as so-and-so ...", making any available male within 100 yards of them pounce on the opportunity to be the first to compliment them and *hopefully* get a chance to get in their pants?

You know how some women try so hard to make their outsides as attractive as possible no matter the cost so that they feel as though they are worthwhile, never remembering that it's the inside that really matters?

You know how they say true beauty comes from within, that if you feel beautiful, you will radiate beauty that will be undeniable? Maybe that's my problem.

I know I'm not beautiful. I've known it all my life. I was always the ugly duckling, the outcast, the one about whom was always remarked "but she has such a nice personality." No one else has ever thought I was pretty, either, and if they did, they didn't tell me. Would someone calling me beautiful or gorgeous change my self-perception? Guess I'll never know.

You know how hard it is to go through every day knowing you aren't beautiful, that no one thinks you are beautiful, and still look at yourself in the mirror? When the standard of beauty is young, stick-thin, blond, tan, surgically enhanced sex-pot, it's almost impossible, expecially for someone that doesn't fit any of those requirements.

*sigh*

Not sure where I'm going with this. Here I sit with a Masters, an overall 4.0 GPA in grad school, two kids and a great guy that love me, a roof over my head and I can't help but feel inadequate and ashamed of how I look. Do looks really matter? Apparently they do to me. I never thought being told I was pretty or I looked good was important to how I feel but I guess I'm simpler than I thought.

What brought this on? Maybe being sick and alone and feeling like a dishrag. If one more person tells me I look terrible this week, I don't know what I'll do. Prolly whine some more.