Perspective is Life

Can I tell my story here?  I hope it's okay.  It might sound like a "humble brag", but I ask you to please remember–perspective is everything.  Perspective is life.

I have been thin and, what I call, "class b pretty," my entire life.  I was never popular... but, I was the girl the popular guys liked, but were embarrassed to pursue.  I wasn't the girl you were supposed to be into.  I was by no means ugly growing up, but still...  I was kept in the shadow.  The back up girl.  I always felt if something better came up for "him," he'd leave in an instant.  I wasn't pretty enough.  I wasn't enough.

For so many reasons, I have such a difficult time disconnecting my worth from my looks.  They aren't a 10, or anything, I know that, but so much emphasize is focused there.  I am collateral damage from my mother's damage.  Much like many woman, her childhood and adulthood was all about staying thin and pretty.  If she wasn't thin and pretty and young, she was worthless.  She stood in the mirror daily--sighing in disappointment at herself and mumbling negative self-talk.  She tried hard, but this attitude of inadequacy passed to me–not quite so intensely.  My sisters were less lucky than I.  They are worse off, and I can't even imagine being more hindered than I am.

It's all really difficult to explain.

I'm not enough.  I think I let people use me because I thought, "This is what I'm made for.  This is what I am."  I've always liked being helpful.  So, I pleased in the most efficient way I knew how.  I sacrificed me.  I did for them.  For motherfucking decades.  Right.  Walk around and look pretty because that makes people(men) happy.

Since I was 15, men have been noticing me.  I know how to be sexy.  I don't mean just eye contact.  I know everything about being sexy.  It's natural to me.  I can turn it on and off.  But, I'm not allowed to want sex, right.  Women should be sexy, but not sexual, right.

While being told I'm pretty or beautiful or sexy does make me feel good (probably for psychological reasons that even I don't understand), that shit fades, right.  It's very rare someone sticks around long enough to break through my self-defense mechanisms (by the way, being sexy to distract is one of those mechanisms) to see me.  I know it's not fair they exist, I know, but so much has happened.  Think about how fucking long a decade is... think about it now.  Imagine meeting someone who has a DECADE's worth of living to do to catch up to you.  Think about where you were a decade ago.  Do you even know that person anymore?
 
Well, here I am, 35.   I've been divorced for 8 years, having been married 5 years.  I see the stress lines in my face.  I have a lot of scars... flaws, I guess.  I feel my age.   I'm 35.  While my looks begin to fade, I've changed so much internally.  I know what I am now.  I know how much more I'm worth.  I mean I can speak the words, at least.  To myself.

I know better than to lead with my sex, and I know better than to accept less.   So, I quit leading with my "class b pretty".  I quit leading with my sex.  I stopped making eye contact with every man and woman I passed.  I quit seducing people.  I decided I wanted to force someone to know me. 

Well, now I don't know how to make a connection without it.  And here I sit alone. 

I guess I'll just wait.  I mean... what else can I do?  Just wait.  Wait for someone to see more.  I'm just here alone in the meantime.