When I was 21, I lived and worked in a major Canadian city and knew I was attractive to some men. I had a great body, cute face and medium length bottle blonde hair ( only because I thought it would make my hair look thicker ). I had an ex-friend, of the male gender, who would phone me, on a regular basis, to inform me that he was only interested in having a private relationship with me but could not have a public one because I was too "poor and cheap" looking and he would be "embarrassed to be seen with me". I didn't want any contact with him but knew I couldn't antagonize him but his comments hurt like hell. I would look in the mirror and wondered about my looks and prayed that I would get some resolution because I was beginning to feel ugly. He was a true sadist and misogynist; scarier than any fictional character.
I travelled to my hometown (another major Canadian metropolis) and was met by my best friend and her new boyfriend who exclaimed that I looked exactly like the top model in that cosmopolitan city. There was an article about her in the newspaper with her picture looking just like me - there was that same smiling face on advertising all around the town. As I gazed up at my "twin" in a very confident fashion pose on a huge billboard in the middle of downtown, a man walked up to me and asked me how it felt to be "on top".
When I playfully asked him if he thought I looked like her, he said "You are her, c'mon, That is you!"
Well, my friend who had never felt ugly in her life, became jealous and told me clothes models are chosen for their slim bodies and bland faces so as not to distract from the latest fashions the advertiser wanted to sell. The really beautiful models were used for make-up and hair products. The really sexy ones sold liquor and vacations. Obviously, the advertiser felt that this model, my "twin", looked so much like the average female in this city that no one would notice her but would notice the clothes. Was I upset or insulted by her opinion? No, it made me joyful because I looked like an average young woman, not some low class wannabe hooker that this cruel guy was likening me to. I doubted this clothing empire would approve of a trashy chick to sell their expensive garments then plaster her photos all over the city.
When I returned to my adopted city and listened to this sociopath's phone rantings ( the police wouldn't get involved until he "did something criminal" ) about the defects in my appearance, it did not affect me because I realized he was trying to hurt me in everyway he could and his words were aimed at my very vulnerable self-esteem. He thought I looked like a cheap whore, my friend thought I looked bland and average, while my "twin" was getting rich posing in all those fabulous fashions in those huge billboards; smiling down on a city whose women wore those same outfits.
I was amazed that my prayers had been answered in the strangest way possible. I was OK, kinda average looking but leaning toward better than average depending on the province I was in. I wasn't too sexy or beautiful and didn't look like I had to turn tricks to pay the rent. I was average...normal...didn't scare small children...didn't pose a threat to other women...didn't need a complete makeover. I had been judged and found innocent of ugliness by a city of my peers so one crazy man's words had no effect anymore. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and as other posters have said:
...our own perception of ourselves, not the objective reality...your perception of your looks...
and:
...having good looks is absolutely no guarantee of anything...Everyone wants to be accepted.
Really, you look the way you look, and facing the world with a smile on an average face is much nicer than scowling at everyone like those runway models.
Hi MikeBird, I didn't ignore you and always read your posts.