I have often thought that life must be so easy for attractive people.
Apparently attractive people tend to earn more than the rest of us. And you can forgive them because… who can stay mad at that smile? In my profession, they’re always getting the acting gig even if they’re not good actors. Not to mention the guy or girl.
Being beautiful is a completely different world.
But it can’t all be easy.
One thing I know I’ve been guilty of in the past is assuming that the drop-dead gorgeous blonde across the street is not very intelligent. I caught myself, but it was such an instant feeling–clearly founded in jealousy.
I bet this subconscious assumption that you can’t be pretty and smart gets in the way when trying to get a job–especially if the interviewer is the same sex. It’s funny how primitive we still are.
I don’t suppose anybody ever really takes you seriously. Even with personal things like feeling sad or hurting. I bet people naturally assume you’ll be fine because, in the end, you look good!
And what if you have body issues? I mean, we’re all allowed to have them. But you can hardly confide in your less attractive friends about how unhappy you are with your jaw line or knobbly toes.
And don’t think you can ever comment on your looks in a positive way either, because then you’re being vain.
So what, you have to be happy about yourself all the time… but not too happy? Great friends. It must be so hard to find real friends of the opposite sex, too. Not to mention a partner! How can you tell that your looks aren’t the main reason they are with you? That they didn’t forgive you just because your eyes twinkled involuntarily. That they love you for who you are inside and not the way your smile makes them feel or how nice you look on their arm when out in public.
Ugh. Being beautiful has a lot more complications and down sides than I imagined. So I guess I’m happy being in the relatable faces category.
Sure, I’ll be paid less. I’ll be overlooked on the dating scene. I’m not going to get that acting gig. But at least no construction workers are yelling at me from scaffolding. At least no women automatically hate me just for being alive. At least getting and looking older won’t hurt as much.
I like being relatable.
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