I hope this post isn’t as confusing for you to read as it was for me to write.
Last night before bed, James and I were texting each other. I guess I need to give you the update on he and I, don’t I. I’ll share more soon.
Anyway. So as we’re chatting, he says one of the nicest things to me that anyone has ever said:
You are awesome to me and I hope I am as good to you as you deserve.
Like, come on. How am I not supposed to just break down in mega-swoon when he says that? Then he follows it up by telling me how amazing I am for this and for that and so on.
All of these amazing compliments about me being amazing are, well, amazing, but here’s some insight into my brain’s neurosis.
That’s great! But does he think I’m pretty?
I’m trying to figure this one out. Don’t get me wrong; I am thrilled that he holds me in such high regard. Like, seriously over the moon. He is awesome and I will gush about the reasons in another post; but for now I’ll just say again that I am thrilled. So what’s with this insecurity linked to my body image? Why do I wonder if he thinks I’m pretty / attractive / so on …?
Here’s what I’ve come up with:
Though I *try* to be humble, I know deep down that I’m awesome. I don’t like to say it too much for fear of sounding like I’m super full of myself and turning people off, but I do know that I am, really. Perhaps because of this, it doesn’t come as a surprise when people tell me. I’m probably thinking deep down “Hell yeah, I’m amazing! Way to go YOU for noticing.”
Ok, so it’s probably not so much like that … but you see where I’m going.
The pretty / sexy / attractive / desirable thing is different in a weird, twisted way. I am well aware that everyone in the world has a different type or types that they’re physically attracted to. I know that I AM pretty, sexy, gorgeous and sometimes stylish – though people might question that with my gold shoe and boot collection. I also know that as a curvy woman with a big bum and tum, that I can’t please everyone. I’m tired of people telling me that I’m selling myself short by acknowledging the basic fact that everyone has different types that they’re attracted to. I’m not insulting myself by being realistic. Even if personality can trump appearance for some, it doesn’t for all and that’s simple brain chemistry.
When James sent me the text last night – in reply to my half joke “But but but, am I pretty??” – and said I was very pretty, I let out a schoolgirl squeegle (half giggle / half squee). Then when he told me I have a cute giggle, I did it again.
I *know* he thinks I’m amazing – though I’ll happily hear it over and over again, because it’s still an epic compliment – but the body connected portion of my self esteem wants to know that he find me attractive. He’s hot and makes my knees a little weak therefore it seems only fair to return the favor.
I know by saying all of this that I’m being neurotic. I know that it’s possible that my personality makes him feel that already. I know that it’s possible that he and I might eventually take our clothes off together – though I’m not holding my breath, due to a strange reality / insecurity combo, and I know that we have a great time together regardless of any of this. I also know that it’s ridiculous for me to care if someone thinks I’m pretty or not – and yet I still squeegle when I hear it, regardless of how strong my self image is or not.
Maybe it’s because I know that being attractive, outside of dressing well and taking care of myself is all subjective anyway. My face is my face and it looks like this and isn’t changing. My body is my body and can’t shrink or get stronger super quickly. On the flipside, I can adapt and grow my personality a lot faster so if I wasn’t so amazing now, I could become so. Having someone I’m into dig me for the parts of me that cannot change – at least quickly – is well, nice!
Being considered attractive by someone you’re attracted to is nice and feel good. Just like being told I’m important and amazing fills me with pure happiness.
And yes, all of the above is a bit neurotic and I know people will tell me things like “Love yourself.” “You are pretty and anyone who doesn’t think so doesn’t deserve you.”
I’ve heard it all before. It doesn’t change the fact that some words make me squeegle and always will.