sexy
I have never been cute. Petite, blonde and perky has been the ideal of beauty presented to me since childhood. I am none of the three.
I have never been beautiful. My parents or my husband might argue the point but by a show of hands, I would be voted in that vague category of “not ugly but not beautiful.” I suppose I have good company here. There are plenty of non-beautiful people in the world.
I got dumped in high school once, when I found a handwritten Pro/Con list about whether to take me or another girl to prom. Listed in my Con category was “she’s not pretty.” Listed at the top of my Pros list was “she has a nice car.”
As a tall, frizzy headed girl with an eating disorder, you can imagine how that list defined my worth.
Lucky (or unlucky) for me, I veered towards sexy. Honestly, I don’t know I pulled that off either. But short mini-skirts, gauzy shirts and heels helped some over the look “not beautiful” fact by mudding the waters with “sexy.”
Fast forward more than twenty years. I’m still not cute. I’m not beautiful. And I am certainly not sexy. You’d think I would be used to the lack of beauty by now. But my heart still wants it.
We all want something we can’t have. Some want book smarts, others want security. We probably all want more money. But often what we want desperately is unattainable.