Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?

Warning: what you are about to read falls into the categories of “poor little rich girl” or “oh woe is me.” If either of these genres are found to be bothersome, then discontinue reading right… now.

I am rich, not in the literal sense, but more of a metaphoric sense. I don’t have a lot of money, which is probably a good thing because I would likely spend it on frivolous things. No, I am wealthy in another way. I am pretty. Yup, I said it out loud. To quietly acknowledge a realization such as this is one thing, but to vocalize it? I am aware I am dancing a fine line of vanity and conceit. Let’s face it, I am not standing on a mountain top proclaiming to be the fairest of the land, because I know I am not. I am simply stating that I believe my physical appearance is pretty.

Whether I think I’m pretty or not can be somewhat irrelevant, especially in the context of being young and single. In most cases it is more so whether or not the opposite sex finds me to be attractive that is of real importance. In this instance I have been rather fortunate. This isn’t to say that all men find me attractive, because no such woman exists. This is to say, however, that according to my location and my age, the general population of young single men might likely find me attractive. In the words of a friend of mine, the odds are in my favor and therefore I get my pick of the litter.

At this point it seems pretty silly, why would anyone complain about being found attractive? And why should I? I am rarely left dateless on a weekend, I have my pick of almost whoever I want to start a relationship with, and should a relationship end, I only have to stay single for as long as I feel like it because there is always someone waiting in the wings… so when does being beautiful become a double edged sword?

I know that beauty is but a temporary state. I do not want to be this vain person that gets free rides because of her looks, because when it all ends, I will be left with nothing. I don’t want to be one of those ladies that is bitter and struggling in her older adulthood, grasping at years that have passed and clinging to her youth. I want to accept each and every year as it comes. Accordingly I have taken time in my life to acquire skills that maintain much more longevity than that of fleeting beauty. I want things to fall back on and be proud of when I am older, I need other areas for which to gain self worth and feel good about myself. I am not the smartest person, but I have put in a lot of effort to learn things about the world. I am no specialist nor am I an expert on any one particular thing, but it feels nice to know a little bit about a vast number of things.

But my fear runs deeper than becoming a bitter old hag… there is a sense of satisfaction whenever I meet a new boy and he goes on and on about how pretty he thinks I am. It feels good, it feeds my ego, my self esteem, and my sense of self worth… but much like the realization that my looks wont last forever, how long will his affections last for me when I am no longer youthful and pretty? I am aware of how ungrateful I sound, but there is a point in a relationship when I start to cringe every time I am told I am beautiful… Perhaps it is my own insecurities in the other aspects of my life, but this anxiety exists that he only wants me because he thinks I’m pretty. If that is the basis and foundation of all my relationships, I fear I will never settle down with anyone.

So deep rooted in me is this need to be loved and needed for much more than the genetics my parents and the Lord have blessed me with. I find myself seeking the answer, “do you love me because I am beautiful, or am I beautiful because you love me?” I am always begging for the latter, so much so in fact I feel as though I unconsciously dress myself down in an attempt to ugly myself up, just hoping he will still find me attractive.

I think I just want what every girl wants. I don’t want to have to worry about always being in tip-top shape just to keep someone interested in me, I want to be accepted as I am. I want to be loved for all I that I am and all that I am not. Its times like this when I think those girls who don’t think they are very pretty have it easy, at least they know with certainty that when a man says he loves her, its because he loves who she is, not what she looks like.