“I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles”
~ Janis Ian
The only thing I have to say to this song lyric is: what the heck took her so long??
I‘d figured this out by age 14.
As I’ve shared earlier, by the age of five or six I was already overweight. I had corrective shoes and glasses, set off by mousy brown hair. Could my worldview have gotten any bleaker?
Children are little sh!ts. They are merciless in their brutality in elementary and middle school. I was always the last one picked for anything in any sort of relay race, soccer or even tether ball.
The kind comments I heard from well meaning adults were: “You’re so smart.” “You’re so funny.”
It wasn’t long until I figured out those were consolation prizes for never being a great beauty.
Fast forward to adulthood. When I turned 40 years of age I called my sister and said, “There is now never any chance that anyone is ever going to look at me and want me.”
“What do you care?” she asked. “You’re happily married.”
“Not the point,” I responded. “No stranger on the street ever wanted me. Now they never will.”
“I understand,” she said.
But how could she? She wasn’t 40.
Luckily for me, on the maternal side of my family the women really don’t come into their own until their 40s.
Somewhere after my 40th birthday I collected a bevy of 35 year olds who seemed to be attracted to me.
I credit their (potentially) misplaced adulation for allowing me to re-write my thoughts on beauty.
Could a plus-size woman be attractive?
What about a mid-forties woman?
At my sister’s wedding last month, after being made up by a professional hair and makeup stylist I was shocked at how amazing I looked. (And of course, the bride, also a 40+, was just glowing.)
Several glasses of wine into the reception I had a moment alone with my father and I kept saying, “You have such beautiful daughters…..we look amazing!”
His response was: “And you’re so smart too!”
Like the screeching scratch of a record player arm ruining your favorite album in an Allie McBeal episode, my euphoria at my own reflection in the mirror shattered.
I stared at my father like he was nuts: “What? Why the hell would I want to be smart? It is a consolation prize!! Don’t you understand??? All I’ve ever wanted is to be attractive!”
Where the heck has intelligence ever taken me?
What about being witty?? I ask you – where? Why would I ever “settle” for being these consolation prizes?
Screw intelligence! Screw a great sense of humor! Screw a kind heart! I don’t care if you ‘can’t fix stupid’ I just want my Holy Grail: I want to be beautiful!
So, with less than 5 years left on my ‘decade of gorgeousness’ (without lots of plastic surgery….if you’d like to contribute I’ll be happy to supply you with my PayPal account information) I am glad to have finally (w/only two hours of help by professionals) reached my Holy Grail: I’m finally attractive!
I ask you: what is your Holy Grail? What would it mean if you could actually achieve it?
So what do you think is going to happen at 50? Will your nose fall off? I look at it like wine; I’m getting better with age. And what’s wrong with being beautiful and smart? I’m personally going for beautiful, smart and RICH for fifty. And God help me when I’m sixty…I may need a REAL crown.
Have you seen Stockard Channing lately (and she even had breast cancer)! She’s my new model for sexy! And she’s 65!
First off: Thanks for sharing your blog with me (And the world, obviously). One of the most beautiful things that occur in life is insight.
I hope to contribute opinion to your blog that is relevant, poignant, hopefully funny, witty, and interesting. I hope more than anything to avoid being verbose!
Being an odd duck myself, for most of my life, I think it allowed me to obtain a certain sense of self (forced or non-forced ha!) early in life. The interesting part of gaining a real good sense of self early in life is the complete backlash of society when you let it be known through action or re-action. It’s almost like society penalizes those of us thrown under the bus and told to escape early in life, and successfully do!. In any case, that is a long way to me saying this: I believe my personal “Holy Grail” is defined by my experiences both good and bad, and finding a place/person/thing going through life that would fit my “ideal” or sense of ideal of the perfect “landing mat”.
I don’t know if I would use the word “achieving” in my own “Holy Grail” journey since I believe (and this is only my idea of it) that mine is the actual art of complete personal progress than a destination. And I know the cliche phrase about happiness being “Its a journey, not a destination”, but the “holy grail” is more than just being happy. I think when I hopefully get 20 or 30 more years, I can look back at my life, and see an consistency of great character, passion, and laughs along the way that was my yellow brick road of my life. A life of no regrets or fears, but risk and strength. Because I believe that one of the biggest steps towards achieving ones “Holy Grail” is the leap of oneself past the sedentary comforts of ones dwellings and taking that train called “Risk”, Oh its dangerous, and volatile. But without volatility most good things would never happen anyway.
Luis – Thank you for reading and commenting. This particular post was somewhat facetious while at the same time very soul-baring. As one of the ‘undesirables’ that, of course, became the thing I fixated on. I know exactly where my brains, wits and education have gotten me. But in some ways there was/is still that perverse desire to be the one thing I could never be: one of the popular kids. One of the pretty girls, etc. Even though I knew it wasn’t in my cards, I still longed for it in my heart of hearts. Probably still do. Thanks again for reading and sharing.
L.