Originally meant to be posted only in Organized Chaos, but heck, I went right ahead and posted this here as well.
It always annoys me whenever some guy pretending to be smart and funny and a gentleman who hasn’t seen me yet tells me this one line:
I don’t care about your looks.
Ahh. Never fails to earn my ire, really. One word, though: overrated.
Or, the not-so-subtle one: LIAR!!! *imitates Elle Woods in Legally Blonde*
There are times when I get tired of being a “Plain Jane.” People who look only do because I’m big, not because they think I’m “something” to look at. You know what it feels like to be looked through? Yeah, that’s it. Oh sure, I get those hungry looks (probably because of my boobs — the sole perk of having too much fat in my body) sometimes, but that happens only in the streets where alcoholics and drug addicts and sexually deprived guys hang out.
It has even come to a point that I resented my father for being like the rest of them people who care so much about the looks of one person. But I’ve even gotten used to saying that I’m ugly, and fat, and a total nobody. Thus, the word “self-deprecating” whenever someone describes me.
I’m no beauty. I’ve always admitted it to myself and others. It’s not out of modesty, but out of honesty. Sure, I’m ridiculously photogenic, but there’s a world of difference between photographs and the real thing. Seriously, you’d be surprised when you see me in photos and in person. Add to that my quite seductive voice on phone (which is all natural, mind you). Some people have expressed their dismay over my looks. They blurt out, “Punyeta, ikaw yung nasa picture?! Tangina, niloloko mo ako no?! Nasan si Shari?” Ho-ho-ho, can I say pictures are good baits?
Do I get disappointed? Yes. Do I get offended? A little. Do I get hurt? Of course. I’m only human after all.
That’s why I’ve made it a point not to trust guys whenever they say the forbidden line. Or hope that they’re telling the truth. No one in their right mind would say that they don’t care about looks even a teeny weeny bit. If a guy pursues a woman who’s not exactly beautiful, then there’s definitely something else about the woman that makes it worth his while. When you fall in love, you just do, and be damned the physical aspects of a person. That, or the guy hasn’t had sex in over a week. Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?
My taste in guys has always been questioned. I do say that looks don’t matter, but I lie. Looks do matter to me. However, what’s attractive for me isn’t necessarily attractive for anybody else. Like I mentioned numerous times before, I have a weird taste in guys. I think Arnold Clavio’s cute. Especially Arn-Arn.
But that’s just the taste in guys we’re talking about. Boyfriends and ex-boyfriends are different. And it just so happens that both ex’s are, well, okay-looking. They’ve both had their share of admirers. They certainly pass society’s standard of what good-looking is. They’re both smart (well, to an extent). But like any other people, they both have their shortcomings (which other people pretend not to notice because they’re that: okay-looking). But they both accepted me the way I am, without feeding me those cheesy romantic lines that might have easily sway me.
The first ex was too immature to handle a so-called relationship decently (and he admitted it). The last ex easily gave in to temptations (sex, sex, and sex!). All good things must come to an end.
Growing up fat and on the average-looking (if not downright ugh-ly) side has been quite an emotional adventure. I’ve had my “haba ng buhok” days/months, but for the most part, I’m one of those people who gets ridiculed and bastardized by the society that puts so much importance in a socially-constructed thing called beauty. I get teased a lot. I get called nasty names. But in the process, I’ve learned to appreciate myself in ways that only people who are like me can understand. Most importantly, I’ve learned to love myself more than anybody ever could.
So please, spare me that, “I don’t care about looks” line, because we all know it isn’t true. Do what you want to do, but don’t say words you don’t really mean. It’s safer, and it lessens the impact of the blow when I find out that you’re just a little twerp who can’t own up to his words.
