Musings
Two women stood before me in the grocery store recently. One of them instantly struck me as attractive and pleasant; the kind of person I would like to know better. The second instantly struck me as the kind of person I would hate to be around. The reactions to both were strong, and as I zeroed in on why I felt as I felt, I realized that I was being allowed a brief enlightenment.
By the world's standards the attractive woman was not beautiful. She was probably in the middle to high end of her weight range. Not fat or obese, but not a twig either. Her face was dotted with achne. Her hair and clothing were not the top fashion of the day - but ... she was attractive. You could see it in how men reacted to her, how some women glared at her with jealous loathing.
By the world's standards the unattractive woman was beautiful. She was thin, she had perfectly arranged blonde hair, she wore top of line pants, her skin was flawless, and her makeup was perfectly applied. Yet, it was clear that most people couldn't wait to get away from her.
I studied the equation a little more.
The attractive woman had a brilliant smile, a soft voice that held just a hint of joyfulness in every word she said. When she greeted people, she sounded sincerely interested in them. Everything about her said, "I love life." Her eyes sparkled.
The unattractive woman was pouting. Her arms were crossed over her body. If she had to interact with someone, she stated the words required with the attitude of, "Why are you bothering me," unfurling her hands for a brief moment, only to cross them over her chest again seconds later. Even though her words were not offensive or off-putting, her tone was.
It hit me that I know many "beautiful" women who are miserable and cannot figure out why they are rejected so often. I wish they could have seen what I saw last night.
I vowed to try to make a conscious effort to let the joy show when I feel it, and to note it or the lack of it, in others. It is an interesting experience. People who notice my cheerfulness are flocking by to share theirs with me. People who are locked in negativity are avoiding me, glaring at me like I am an alien. I kind of like that. I am no longer inflicted with their negitivity.
By the world's standards the attractive woman was not beautiful. She was probably in the middle to high end of her weight range. Not fat or obese, but not a twig either. Her face was dotted with achne. Her hair and clothing were not the top fashion of the day - but ... she was attractive. You could see it in how men reacted to her, how some women glared at her with jealous loathing.
By the world's standards the unattractive woman was beautiful. She was thin, she had perfectly arranged blonde hair, she wore top of line pants, her skin was flawless, and her makeup was perfectly applied. Yet, it was clear that most people couldn't wait to get away from her.
I studied the equation a little more.
The attractive woman had a brilliant smile, a soft voice that held just a hint of joyfulness in every word she said. When she greeted people, she sounded sincerely interested in them. Everything about her said, "I love life." Her eyes sparkled.
The unattractive woman was pouting. Her arms were crossed over her body. If she had to interact with someone, she stated the words required with the attitude of, "Why are you bothering me," unfurling her hands for a brief moment, only to cross them over her chest again seconds later. Even though her words were not offensive or off-putting, her tone was.
It hit me that I know many "beautiful" women who are miserable and cannot figure out why they are rejected so often. I wish they could have seen what I saw last night.
I vowed to try to make a conscious effort to let the joy show when I feel it, and to note it or the lack of it, in others. It is an interesting experience. People who notice my cheerfulness are flocking by to share theirs with me. People who are locked in negativity are avoiding me, glaring at me like I am an alien. I kind of like that. I am no longer inflicted with their negitivity.