|
|

It's so weird to have grown up beautiful. I'm not even surprised anymore when boys flirt or tell me I'm attractive. Sometimes I'm grossed out, but mostly pretty indifferent. It's just strange, and I know it is a different experience than many have. It's just sort of, oh, well of course you are attracted to me, I am beautiful. My hair and face and eyes and waist and legs and butt and back and neck and breasts are all lovely to behold. How odd. I have a strange relationship with that right now. It's also funny that it is still happening, even now that I haven't done my hair or put on makeup or tried at all since Ben dumped me. Same reactions, maybe a little less sleazy now, but nevertheless. I was listening to Fresh Air recently and she interviewed a man who just made a movie and who had worked in fashion for most of his life. He made a comment about how beautiful women navigate the world differently, and then one day, they are no longer that same kind of beautiful and they have to relearn how to go through daily life. I am not looking forward to that day coming, because I don't feel that it is something I could prepare for, it is the way almost every single person treats you and it's THEM who change, not you. How much time is left? 30 years? 20? 15? less?

god damn i am miserable and depressed
|