That I won't cry if Campbell gets engaged to this girl he's dating.
That I'm completely over even the idea of a relationship with him.
That I'm not a tiny bit shallow because I think she has bad skin and brassy hair and that I'm prettier.
That I'm not a tiny bit at peace with it all.
That we didn't have potential for something awesome.
That I don't miss his friendship.
That I'm not confused by the way things worked out.
I will say that I wish I understood why we were such good friends if he's not going to be part of my life ever again.
I will also say that I'm working on a much longer post wherein I try to be philosophical and hopeful even though another Person With Potential no longer has any potential.
It's hard. What's that line from "When Harry Met Sally"? Oh yes--Marie turns to Jess and says, "Tell me I'll never have to be out there again," and Jess replies, "You'll never have to be out there again." Out There kind of sucks. This whole balancing act between not liking someone enough and liking them too much JUST IN CASE he might or might not like-like you back? It's stupid. It's exhausting. I'm tired. I'm usually optimistic enough to accept set-ups (few and far between as they are) with good humor and an open mind, but the latest guy, The Professor (I think that's what I'll call him if anything pans out), has been exchanging emails with me for a month and hasn't made a single move. All I really want is the reassurance that I don't have to be on this particular balance beam/roller coaster/seesaw very much longer, and that there will come a day (soon, please) where I know I'll never have to be Out There again.
I won't say I'm looking forward to much of anything right now. Sigh.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
That I won't cry if Campbell gets engaged to this girl he's dating.
I wasn't planning on discussing Sk8er Boi here again, but that was before he announced on Facebook that he's in a relationship now. Not only did they go "Facebook public", but he actually posted about how it might upset people because he said he wasn't going to date anyone for awhile but he is and he cares about her.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
I DO know. I know that I am NOT attracted to men who are shorter than me, thinner than me, or who have smaller feet and hands than I do.
At nearly 5'9", I'm a taller-than-average woman. I have long arms and legs, and, yes, bigger-than-average feet and hands. Thanks to genetics, they're well-proportioned and well-shaped, with long slender fingers and toes (my second toe is nearly as long as my pinky finger, which is fun to demonstrate when people don't beleive me). If anything other than average, my bone structure is on a slightly smaller scale, but I'm not one of those size 2 women with a 24" waist. I am, I think, at a fairly healthy weight--the 20 pounds I've gained over the last several years at a desk job haven't made a HUGE difference in my overall size, and I've never gone past a certain weight (either low or high) so my body is pretty set within a 30 pound range of what I weighed in high school (I was pretty skinny during puberty).
While most of my friends were getting over their gawky stage, I was in the thick of it at 17. I'd grown an inch and a half sometime between junior and senior years, and I grew an additional half inch (and half a shoe size) after high school. I was suddenly taller than a lot of my friends and felt awkward and gangly--thank goodness for childhood dance lessons, or I'd probably have been even MORE clumsy. I had these arms and feet and legs that got in the way and for a while I could walk down the middle of a wide hallway and still end up with bruises on my elbows.
My feet were average until 8th grade, when I suddenly realized I couldn't borrow my mom's shoes anymore. By the time I was 15, I was wearing size 9 shoes and I was only 5'4" tall; I felt like a clown. I have a difficult time finding gloves big enough to accommodate the space between my index finger and my thumb, but small enough that my fingers aren't swimming in them. Long enough skirts and pants are also hard to find, and I won't get into my shoe issues except to say that I'm so grateful I don't also have wide feet. I feel for those of you who do, especially if your feet are a size 9 or more.
Although I've maintained my weight and I'm not quite overweight for my height, I know it's a possibility if I don't exercise. I see women at work who have been in desk jobs for 15 or 20 years and have gained a lot of weight. It wears on them; one woman can't walk down the hall without panting and sweating. I honestly think that the hand genetics dealt me doesn't include the morbid obesity card, but that doesn't mean I get a free pass. I don't want to get too thin, either, because that would be unhealthy. Women who talk about wanting to get back to their high school weight don't realize that I didn't start puberty until I was 15. If I ever get as thin as I was in high school (somewhere between 120 and 130 pounds), there is probably something very wrong with me.
Now that I've established my size history, perhaps you'll understand that when my ex-fiance (just two inches taller than me) quoted the weight loss goal he was trying to attain, and it was just 10 pounds more than the weight I already was, I felt very insecure talking to him about my extra weight. He said he wasn't bothered by my high heels, but in the end I think he was. I felt huge around him sometimes even though he was stronger than me.
I don't want to feel huge around my husband. I am insecure about enough things that I don't want to be insecure about my weight, shoe size, height, or hands. When I've held hands with men whose fingers are shorter than mine, I feel huge (unless their hands are actually BIGGER). I work with an attractive man who I outweigh by 30 pounds, so I don't even go there. I was once cast in a play opposite a man who was 2 or 3 inches shorter than me and at least 35 pounds thinner. I did my best to act the part well and to let my character be attracted to him, but it was a huge relief when he had to drop the show and was replaced by someone much taller. I've been out with wonderful men with small hands and feet and, much as I like them as friends, I'm much more comfortable around someone bigger than me. I like feeling secure that if something happened to me, the man I'm with could easily help me get to safety.
I am just not attracted to men who are smaller than me. I wouldn't go out with one in pursuit of a relationship. So for all those women who say "you never know!" I would like to say, YES. I DO know. I don't think God wants me to be in an eternal marriage with someone to whom I'm not attracted, and I am not attracted to men who are shorter or thinner than me, so stop assuming I'm just being picky and close-minded. I really do mean it when I tell you that I won't marry someone with smaller feet than me--I really don't need him trying on my shoes and commenting on how big they are. . .
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
If there was one thing I could change about my body it would be the hair on my legs. (And my eyes, I'd get them lasik-ed, we're working on that.) No matter how I remove the hair on my legs, the hair can't figure out how to grow back. I've shaved. I've done several different chemicals - got a first degree burn on my legs once doing that. I've finally settled on an epilator because that's the easiest upkeep and there's no stubble.
No matter how I do it though I end up with ingrown hairs that leave my legs looking like I got attacked by an entire swarm of mosquitos. I've had inch long hairs finally come out before. It's crazy. I see other women with their spotless legs and can't help having a little bit of envy. I exfoliate real well and that helps a little, but there's always at least a few spots on my legs. And I'm VERY self-conscious about it.
Which is why the comments people make about my legs stick in my memory something good. It's my major insecurity about how I look and when people comment it feeds my insecurity because it indicates that people are noticing and wondering what is wrong with me. I've had several people make comments about bug bites. I've had a few people ask me if I had issues shaving. It's not fun because I really do like the shape of my legs a lot, but I'm embarrassed to show them off because of the way my skin is.
HP is a legs man. He's mentioned that to me several times. And he's mentioned to me several times how much he really likes my legs. Not once though has he ever said anything about the spots. And that means a lot to me. I've thanked him for that a few times and he always replies with something along the lines of, "What spots?"
Without even knowing my insecurities he calms them down. He's a good man.
And, because I love comics, here's another good man helping calm his wife's insecurities - For Better of For Worse