Accepting Compliments

I'm not sure if this is a good thing or not, but since I've gained weight, I haven't worried too much about my looks. I like to be put together and enjoy wearing nice clothes and look neat, but I'm not obsessed, either. If I get a zit or have a bad hair day, it doesn't faze me too much; I'd rather concentrate on other things.

In many ways, not paying too much attention to my appearance is a relief for me. I mean, I used to stare at myself all the time and think that I was ugly or not thin enough or not good enough. Meanwhile, I look back at photos of myself from when I was 17 or 18 and I was a cute kid. I don't know what the hell was wrong with me. I don't think I'm ugly now, nor do I think of myself as being a great beauty, either. I really just don't think much about it. As long as I don't look ridiculous -- like I'm weaing pajama bottoms with a Hawaiian shirt in public -- I'm okay with myself. I get plenty of compliments about my talents or personality, which is pretty cool. The main issues I have with myself is with my physicality or lack thereof. If I could be average looking and in decent shape, I think I'd be sastisfied. I really do.

Don't get me wrong; if I awoke one morning and looked like a model, I wouldn't complain. And I do sometimes wonder what it would be like to be really attractive. My friend Scott is way above average in looks, though he's not obsessive about it, either. When I asked him once what it was like to look in the mirror and know that he's handsome, he couldn't really answer me. I guess we all have flaws and things about ourselves that we wish we can change -- even beautiful folks.

The point to this post is that when people do comment on my appearance, it takes me by surprise. Jon tells me that I'm beautiful, but I figure that with him, it's my whole package. On my wedding day, everyone told me I looked pretty, but well, I was the bride and it was expected. Every so often, a guy will hit on me and that's very unexpected for me, too.

Tonight, my friend told me that her friend, whom I met once, commented that I'm pretty. It's nice to hear this, but it seemed like a weird thing to say about me as a first impression. What's also interesting is that this is a woman who gave me the compliment, and women can be especially cruel to each other at times.

I think a lot of times I forget that I have an appearance; I'm just kind of a body that exists, trying to walk and live and function. I wonder if this will change as I lose weight. I don't want to go back to obsessing over models and feeling badly about myself, and I like the fact that I'm noticed more for my accomplishments than for being a beauty queen. Maybe I'll reach a point where I'm somewhere in the middle; where people consider me to be cute, but I'm truly noticed for the work I do. I think I can live with that...