I began writing about my views on feminism versus traditionalism a few days ago, but I realized just a paragraph into the writing that I would have to address something in order to fully explore the topic.
I’m an attractive person. There. I said it. And no, I don’t mean that in the love-thyself way they teach you to think in school. I mean it in a perfectly detached, men-think-I-look-good kind of way.
Off-putting to see me lay it all out like that, though, isn’t it? I’m trying to figure out why it is exactly that I can brag on my own smarts from time to time, so long as I don’t go overboard, but when I mention my looks someone is always there to knock me down a peg or two. It’s like it’s a faux pas to recognize that the opposite sex thinks you’re attractive. And if you do recognize it, you’re supposed to pretend you don’t.
I call this the Aw Shucks Phenomenon, and it really only ever seems to apply to physical appearance.
Honestly, though, it’s not like I sit around and brag on my looks. It’s just that sometimes talking about it is pertinent to whatever subject I’m talking about or whatever conversation I’m having; I find it terribly frustrating that sometimes I’m forced to forsake certain points because of this silly taboo about letting on that you’re aware of your appeal to the opposite sex.
Being attractive is sort of like having a talent, like being artistic or smart or good at piano. It arguably doesn’t take any skill to be attractive, but it certainly works much like talent.
Mostly I just get tired of pretending I’m stupid. I’m supposed to pretend I don’t see men’s heads turn or that I don’t notice the number of men who ask me out or grant me compliments. It isn’t vanity that leads to my conclusions that I’m attractive–it’s watching how people react to me. It’s seeing finely drawn features that are in fashion right now when I look in the mirror. In short, it’s being the opposite of dumb. And yes, I’m smart enough to realize that there are men out there thoroughly unimpressed by my looks and who may even consider me plain. And I know I have large pores and oily skin and huge ugly teeth. I’m just honest with myself, that’s all.
“Aw, shucks” isn’t part of my vernacular language. Never will be.
So now that that’s out in the open, can I please get on with discussing it matter-of-factly? ‘Kay, thanks.
PS: I still enjoy receiving compliments.