Confidence has always been a funny thing with me. Do I think I’m smart? Sure. Am I funny? Yeah. Am I pretty? Um … how about cute? Wait … Do you think I’m pretty? Because if you think I’m pretty, then okay, I am.

It’s only funny because it’s true.

So where did this belief come from? Even as a child, I struggled with my weight. I may not have been aware that my dad was an active alcoholic but I knew something was going on in my family that wasn’t right. So food was a comfort to me.

My mother has an unhealthy relationship with food. Until she became pregnant with me, she liked to say, she weighed little more than 100 lbs., and she’s about 5′6″. Somehow, I don’t think you can claim pregnancy as the reason you’re carrying an extra 50 to 75 lbs. when your youngest is 24. But anyway, when I starved myself in high school and wore a size 8/10, she still wasn’t happy. I will never forget coming home from the mall one day and excitedly telling her I fit into a dress that was a size 8. “I’m so sure!” she said. To use one of my favorite sayings, why would I lie?

Between her overwhelming denial, even to this day, of her own depression as well as the effect my father’s drinking/depression/compulsive eating has on me and my brother, my mother is an unhappy woman.

But getting back to my main point, I can remember ONE TIME as a teenager that either parent spontaneously told me I was pretty. I was 16 and dressed up for a friend’s graduation party. It was an evening event and I had on a skirt and top, with my hair up. I was going out the door as my dad was coming in. “Wow! You look so pretty!” he said. Of course, I was thin then. ; ) Now I get “You look good!” i.e. “You’ve lost weight … or haven’t gained any.”

A few years ago my mom was talking about my brother, who has always received compliments on his looks. He was in high school at the time, and didn’t go to prom. The Monday after, a girl who also didn’t go (and happened to be a beauty-queen winner) said if she had known, she would have gone with my brother. In the course of conversation my mom said, “Everyone always knew you were pretty …” I said, “Then why didn’t you tell me????” and she looked at me like I was insane.

At any rate, I don’t always believe in my own attractiveness. I mean, I try to look good and I think I do all right, but it bothers me so much that these men I date don’t say, “You look nice” or anything like that when I see them. Seriously. I assume they think I’m attractive, since they keep asking me out, but what is so difficult about saying, “Wow!” or anything like that???

I was thinking about the guys I’ve been out with this year:

1. David, 34, four dates.
2. Carl, 26, two dates.
3. David, 28, three dates.
4. Benjamin, 25, two dates.
5. Jim, 38, one date.
6. Jesse, 27, two dates.
7. Ryan, 26, ten months on and off.

Yahoo! had a stat on their site that interested me. If you went out on 100 random dates, only 7% of them time would you and the other person like each other. The rest was split fairly evenly between one-sided and no interest.

I know it’s a numbers game. Do “pretty” people really have a better chance at love? Or do they just date more? I would rather have three first dates in a year if it meant one would lead to a relationship instead of 52 casual dates. I just need to be patient. Besides, I have another potential date next week … ; )

∗ Posted by Monique on 10.29.2005
∗ Uncategorized