Monday, May 19, 2008

Still Got Some Work to Do

I may have learned to take a compliment, something that’s still hard to do, but this weekend I found out that I still discriminate against myself. It’s totally unconscious, and it’s not cool at all.

It all started on Thursday when I went out for a beer with my friend, Chrissy. If you follow the link I embedded in her name to her myspace profile, you’ll know I’m not lying when I tell you she’s likely the most beautiful person I know. We weren’t a beer into our evening when a friend of Chrissy’s showed up to join us: tall, thin, incredibly well dressed. I was wearing the same clothes I wore to work – the same clothes that made the President of my company tell me I looked like I needed “some wooden shoes and one of those hats that has points on the sides” earlier in the day.

We’re chatting, the bartender come over and says, “The gentleman at the end of the bar would like to buy you a double shot of Patron.” I waited for Chrissy or her friend to accept. The bartender repeated himself. Crap, is he was talking to me?

“I know you’re not talking to me,” I said.

“Yes,” said the bartender, “The man over there wants to buy you a double shot of Patron – can I pour it for you?”

“Are you sure he’s talking about me?” I ask, “Between these two, he wants to buy it for me? Are you sure?”

I don’t think I’ve EVER been told that someone wanted to buy me a drink. Ever. And I never would have expected it to come at a time where I’m the fug of the sandwich sitting between two slices of gourmet bread.

I politely declined, even though I L-O-V-E Patron. After all, I’m not single, and I didn’t want to have to talk with the guy afterwards. My friends insisted they could keep him at bay and I wouldn’t have to talk with him, but I didn’t feel right about it, so I didn’t do it.

The next day we were out in another part of town at another bar holding a bachelorette party for my friend, Megan. We were having a great time doing shots and chatting with the cute firemen who were collecting money for charity. When we were outside smoking (yes, slap me for smoking), this gang of guys kept walking by. It seemed coincidental at first, but by the third time we realized it was no consequence. Again with the hot friends. Again with the fug sandwich.

Their fourth time by one of them says to me, “My friend likes you.”

This instantly takes me back to, I don’t know, middle school? I remember being in this same situation before and feeling like I needed to be guarded against being tricked. I ignored the guy, standing right in front of me who said it, but he said it again – and a third and fourth time too.

“Is that right,” I say – half inquisitive, half smart-ass. I looked the guy’s friend right in the eye as if I was daring him to fuck with me and say, “NO! You’re fat!”

Instead, they guy says, “Yes, I do. I think you’re pretty and look cool.”

Still not being able to decide if I’m being fucked with, I decide to take the high road (knowing my ladies are surrounding me, just looking for a reason to burry their pointed heels into some stranger’s balls) and I say, “Well, thank you.” It certainly wasn’t the response the guy was looking for, but again, I’m not single, and I was shocked as hell someone came up to me to say this.

Yesterday I was reflecting on both of these instances, trying to figure out what the deal was. Had I been ovulating? Was my body putting off some invisible non-scented pheromones in an attempt to attract sperm donors, a throwback to the cavewoman days where perpetuating the human race was the only real goal in life? I was confused. I couldn’t figure it out.

Then I noticed a trend – a sad trend. I didn’t think I was good enough for either of these things to have happened. Even though I may tell you, your friend, and the guy next door that I believe in myself, that I’m a strong and powerful woman who is worthy of every last bit of attention that had been thrown my way, I secretly and unconsciously didn’t approve of these men choosing me, especially when there was a better selection around in both cases. Wow. I disapprove of me. I don’t like me for me. I don’t think I’m worthy. I didn’t realize that’s what I really think of myself, and it makes me really sad.

I guess, in a way, it’s good this happened and I now know what I really think deep down, because it needs to change. I don’t think I can instantly change my perception of myself, but I can start with accepting that I actually felt the way I did about myself.

It’s hard to share here. Really hard. But, one reason I write this blog is to keep me accountable to myself. Putting myself out there helps me face my fears, tackle them, and come out a better person. I could shove these thoughts aside and not write about them, but then I wouldn’t face them, and it’s obvious that I’ve still got some work to do. At times like these I feel exhausted. I want a break. I’d like to just put these feelings aside, but I know better. Anything worth doing is often difficult, right? Well, here we go again.

1 comment:

chrissy said...

well, since i am mentioned in this particular blog, allow me to contribute a few thoughts.

first, thank you for the compliment! even as i read that i thought to myself, "oh crap, who knows how many people are going to think i am this amazingly hot chick when they read that and will be let down when they follow the link to my page?" so i think it goes to show you, no matter what our size/measurements/confidence level is, it's still hard to flat out accept praise..and trust me, i have confidence to boot.

secondly, as far as thursday, and friday and every other day, here's my, tara, are a friend to me, and we have steadily become closer. as far as i am concerned, you have every right for the attention you have been getting lately..let's lay it out shall we? a few of your physical traits, that i admire, in no particular order, your bootylicious arse, that bodacious rack(yes, i have boob envy), you have amazing, amazing skin, fiercely stylish hair, sparkly happy eyes, your fashion sense is edgy, yet tasteful, when you laugh your whole face lights up, it's infectious, actually you have a truly beautiful look anytime i see you. you never fail to look put together and sassy. you might not be the image of perfection you hold yourself up to, but hell, who among us actually are?

keep rockin' it, i say, oh and maybe next time, do the double shot!