Last week, a lady in Britain named Samantha Brick wrote an article in the Daily Mail about how people reacted to her beauty. You can find her original article here.
The reaction to her writing about her beauty was quick, rude and, sometimes, violent. You can find the article about the backlash here.
Personally, I don’t think she’s that beautiful. However, I understand what she’s saying.
I’m not beautiful. I’m no Angelina Jolie or, as Ms. Brick says, Elle MacPherson. I know this. Hell, it’s hard to miss.
But I have had the same things happen to me that she talks about in her article.
Especially the part about women hating me.
My friends will attest to the fact that I am an outgoing person. I love to smile and make others smile, too. I love to make people laugh. When I talk to you, my whole body is turned to you and I’ll lean in to listen to what you have to say.
I try not to wait to talk and, instead, listen. I try not to interrupt to make a point, because that’s rude. And, I’ll be honest, I flirt like I breathe.
Why do I do this? Because everyone wants to feel like they are being heard, payed attention to, special. Men and women alike. They want to know that what they are saying is important and that the person they are speaking to is paying attention to them.
I want people to listen and engage with me, so I do the same for everyone that I speak to.
But, because I do, because I’m not a dog, because I’m going through a divorce, I’m perceived as a threat.
And that shit gets seriously old.
I don’t have many girlfriends. Mostly cause I don’t get girls, honestly. I’m trying to get in touch with my “feminine side,” but I’ve always been more comfortable with guys. Not because I’m a whore or screw everything with three legs.
Guys are simple. If you can talk sports and cars, and trade inappropriate banter without being offended, guys will hang with you. You’ll become “one of the guys.”
Guys don’t backstab, or talk about you behind your back, or tell you that outfit looks nice and then tell a friend that it makes your ass look big. They don’t care for all of that crap. They don’t have time. Sports, cars and sex take up all of their waking hours. They have no time for all that other stuff.
Women, though. Good Lord. I watch “GCB” on Sunday nights and I laugh at it and I think it’s well written and acted, but I wouldn’t be able to live like that. I like things simple and up front.
Women aren’t like that.
I have two girlfriends that are the most tactless, up front, say what they mean people I have ever met. And I LOVE THEM! I never have to worry about them not telling me like it is. People that don’t like that have no idea what they are missing.
I feel like I have to tell women that I meet that I have no designs on their man. I had that done to me, why would I do that to someone else?
Maybe I should tone back the wattage or something. Maybe I should change how I do things.
But I don’t want to.
After 16 years of being told who I was supposed to be, I’m now discovering who the real me is. I finally feel like smiling all the time. I finally feel like I can be a better person and I want to feel that. I’m not going to dial it back because women are too insecure to take it.
Here’s the thing, ladies: Your man loves you. He comes home to you. I am not a threat to you, at all. If you feel that I am, then there is something much deeper happening between you and your man that you need to identify and fix.
Because I am me. This is who I am. This is who I want to be. I’m not going to apologize to you for your insecurities. I’m not going to not look at your man when he talks to me. I’m not going to dial it down for you.
Most of all, I’m not going to be made to feel bad about who I am by you.
What gets men, every time, is confidence. Not overconfidence to the point of being braggy. Just confidence.
Confidence in who you are, where you are going and what you want.
I finally have that confidence and it comes out of every pore.
I fought hard to get to where I am and I’m not going to change who I am for a bunch of whiny, panties-in-a-twist, girls who can’t put on their big girl panties and live their lives.
Those days are over. Those days are done.
This is me. Take me or leave me. Don’t talk about me behind my back, don’t spread petty rumors, don’t be snarky. Just say, “I don’t like her,” and be done with it.
Because you don’t know me. And that’s your loss.
Not knowing you, well, I consider that making my life simpler and fully enriched.
Grow a set and then we’ll talk. 😉