The Ugly Truth
When you’re everything but attractive
I’d like to start by saying that I have a friend that used to say “pussy doesn’t have a face” and the first time I heard her utter those words, I was shocked. Then, I was immediately filled with joy because that simple, crude statement enveloped everything I believed about the male psyche. Five little words to sum up all the bullshit, all the inconsistency, all the deceptions. And every time I meet a man and think he might be a nice guy, I have to remind myself of this statement because, deep down somewhere, this fact remains.
I was gut punched last night. No, not physically, but I would have chosen that kind above the other any day. I’ve had tons of crushes in my life. Most just fade away without a word. Some have turned into dysfunctional situationships. None have resulted in a healthy relationship, but that doesn’t stop me from jumping right back in the moment an emotionally unavailable man crosses my path. I had a little crush on a guy. Then I realized he was gay. Lol, just kidding. But the dude is pretty soft and eventually the appeal wore off. Then we became friends, and I felt comfortable just being myself around him; no pretense. We had great conversations about everything under the sun. We got each other’s sense of humor. It was an all around good time whenever we hung out. I never looked at him as anything after that. Months passed. Then one day, out of the blue, he kissed me. Brief. Weird. Confusing. The next day we were right back to just buddies.
What I thought was an isolated incident ended up being a stupid little game of parking lot make-out sessions every couple weeks. It was fun. I was entertained. I can’t say with full confirmation that I wanted to have sex with him, but I certainly thought about it. He’s not my type in any type of way, but I haven’t slept with someone with substance or connection in so fucking long that I’d definitely thought about it. One day he came out and said we’d never go any further. But the flirtations increased as did the inappropriate touching and sloppy parking lot kissing. I just thought he was kidding. Surely you don’t behave this way with someone you’re not interested in sleeping with. But once he began to say we were never going to have sex with more frequency, it became a game of cat and mouse to me. The more he said no, the more I pursued. I like a good chase but above all else, I like to win.
This drama had been going on for a while but eventually came to a head when I asked, point blank, what the fucking problem was. Try to keep in mind that it’s not about wanting to fuck him; it’s about the stone cold matter of fact way that he announces we’re not right before he jams his tongue down my throat and places my hand on his dick. I started to suspect what it may be, but I had to have confirmation. It wasn’t uncommon for him to talk about my breasts or ass or lips. He even told me how hard his dick was the last time we were together, the night before this conversation. So I posited the question: Is it me or is it situational? Do you just not want to fuck me or does this complicate the situation among our hangouts and mutual friends?
To be honest, I wish I’d spent my whole life asking these kind of direct questions instead of just existing in these clouds of unsurety because what I got was the truth, no matter how ugly it was. He looked at me for a moment and said “Do you want me to tell you the truth?” and I already knew in my heart what he was going to say, but I confirmed, saying “Go ahead; tell me,” or something equally confident. He breathed deeply before delivering the shit sandwich. He loves to spend time with me, loves my humor and wit, he loves my intelligence, but he is just not physically attracted to me, and he said it with conviction. Unwavering stare, without hesitation, with his whole chest. He. Is. Not. PHYSICALLY. Attracted. To. Me.
Oof.
Sure, hearing that you’re not attractive is tough. I’m not willing to go on the am-I-fat/am-I-ugly rollercoaster though over a dude I was riding the fence on anyway. I’ve dated plenty of men in my life at my absolute peaks, and the truth is you’re never pretty enough or skinny enough if they just don’t like you. I worked out twice a day, quit drinking, and lost 14 pounds in a month to go visit a guy and once I got there, he told me he didn’t want a girlfriend. He didn’t want me to be his girlfriend, and it wasn’t because I wasn’t attractive. Crazy? Probably but attractive, no. I think that what some women can’t wrap their minds about is the intimacy aspect. We all believe that once a man gets to know us and realizes how smart, accomplished, and generally amazing we are, that that is somehow going to change his mind. Well, here is your proof that the theory just doesn’t hold water. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but the only thing that matters to men, all men, are your looks and no amount of degrees or deep conversation about atomic isotopes is going to change that.
What I find particularly upsetting about my exchange though is that I was used as a tool, not as a person with feelings or a close friend. He muddied the waters and complicated a perfectly good friendship not for love or sex but simply so that I could make him feel better about himself, stroke his ego, validate him. He showered me in attention and compliments only in an attempt to make me reciprocate, a return on emtions that didn’t exist on his part in the first place. He defrauded my affections. Worst of all is the absolute disgust I feel knowing that he initiated the physical aspect, sticking his tongue in the mouth of a woman that he has no sexual interest in at all. I feel stupid for letting my guard down and being vulnerable to someone who wasn’t genuine. I feel embarassed. I feel exposed. But above all else, I feel disappointed that once again, I was right.