Misteryosa

Originally meant to be posted only in Organized Chaos, but heck, I went right ahead and posted this here as well.

It always annoys me whenever some guy pretending to be smart and
funny and a gentleman who hasn’t seen me yet tells me this one line:

I don’t care about your looks.

Ahh. Never fails to earn my ire, really. One word, though: overrated.

Or, the not-so-subtle one: LIAR!!! *imitates Elle Woods in Legally Blonde*

There are times when I get tired of being a “Plain Jane.” People who
look only do because I’m big, not because they think I’m “something” to
look at. You know what it feels like to be looked through? Yeah, that’s it. Oh sure, I get those hungry looks (probably because of my boobs
— the sole perk of having too much fat in my body) sometimes, but that
happens only in the streets where alcoholics and drug addicts and
sexually deprived guys hang out.

It has even come to a point that I resented my father for being like
the rest of them people who care so much about the looks of one person.
But I’ve even gotten used to saying that I’m ugly, and fat, and a total
nobody. Thus, the word “self-deprecating” whenever someone describes me.

I’m no beauty. I’ve always admitted it to myself and others. It’s not out of modesty, but out of honesty. Sure, I’m ridiculously photogenic,
but there’s a world of difference between photographs and the real
thing. Seriously, you’d be surprised when you see me in photos and in
person. Add to that my quite seductive voice on phone (which is all
natural, mind you). Some people have expressed their dismay over my
looks. They blurt out, “Punyeta, ikaw yung nasa picture?! Tangina,
niloloko mo ako no?! Nasan si Shari?” Ho-ho-ho, can I say pictures are
good baits?

Do I get disappointed? Yes. Do I get offended? A little. Do I get hurt? Of course. I’m only human after all.

That’s why I’ve made it a point not to trust guys whenever they say
the forbidden line. Or hope that they’re telling the truth. No one in
their right mind would say that they don’t care about looks even a
teeny weeny bit. If a guy pursues a woman who’s not exactly beautiful,
then there’s definitely something else about the woman that makes it
worth his while. When you fall in love, you just do, and be damned the
physical aspects of a person. That, or the guy hasn’t had sex in over a
week. Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

My taste in guys
has always been questioned. I do say that looks don’t matter, but I
lie. Looks do matter to me. However, what’s attractive for me isn’t
necessarily attractive for anybody else. Like I mentioned numerous
times before, I have a weird taste in guys. I think Arnold Clavio’s
cute. Especially Arn-Arn.

But that’s just the taste in guys we’re talking about. Boyfriends
and ex-boyfriends are different. And it just so happens that both ex’s
are, well, okay-looking. They’ve both had their share of admirers. They
certainly pass society’s standard of what good-looking is. They’re both
smart (well, to an extent). But like any other people, they both have
their shortcomings (which other people pretend not to notice because
they’re that: okay-looking). But they both accepted me the way I am,
without feeding me those cheesy romantic lines that might have easily
sway me.

The first ex was too immature to handle a so-called relationship
decently (and he admitted it). The last ex easily gave in to
temptations (sex, sex, and sex!). All good things must come to an end.

Growing up fat and on the average-looking (if not downright ugh-ly)
side has been quite an emotional adventure. I’ve had my “haba ng buhok”
days/months, but for the most part, I’m one of those people who gets
ridiculed and bastardized by the society that puts so much importance in a socially-constructed thing called beauty.
I get teased a lot. I get called nasty names. But in the process, I’ve
learned to appreciate myself in ways that only people who are like me
can understand. Most importantly, I’ve learned to love myself more than
anybody ever could.

So please, spare me that, “I don’t care about looks” line, because
we all know it isn’t true. Do what you want to do, but don’t say words
you don’t really mean. It’s safer, and it lessens the impact of the
blow when I find out that you’re just a little twerp who can’t own up
to his words.