July 22, 2008
I'm
a 22-year-old female, and the older I get, the more often I am ridiculed by
straight men for being ugly. Just last night, a man asked me if I was jealous
of my pretty friends and if I wished I could look like them. I know I'm
unattractive, but I've met wonderful girls who I think are at least as
physically unattractive as me who have managed to find someone to love them. I
need to know if I should even bother anymore—it's hard to find a job,
make friends, and basically just find people who will treat me like a human
being. I shower every day, try to dress well, and wear makeup, but none of it
seems to help. It appears that my only options are plastic surgery or suicide,
and the older I get, the more appealing the latter becomes. And no, I don't
have body dysmorphic disorder, I am absolutely sure.
Anonymous
P.S.
I can't trust my friends to tell me the truth, because they love me, which
either a) clouds their judgment, or b) makes them reluctant to hurt my
feelings. The only commentary I have to go on comes from people I don't know
who feel a need to inform me that I'm ugly. But I'm not sure. Should I send you
a picture?
You
can send me a picture if you like, Anonymous, preferably one taken by the
brand-new therapist that you're going to get. Because you may or may not have
body dysmorphic disorder, and you may or may not be ugly, and your friends may
or may not be shining you on, but you clearly need more help than I can give
you in this space. But I'll accept your self-diagnosis and say this much…
Things
will get better as you get older. Not your looks, Anonymous, if your looks are
truly the problem, but your peers. People are assholes in their 20s, and
pouring alcohol into assholes doesn't make 'em stink less. Straight boys raised
to believe that women exist for their pleasure will sometimes feel personally
affronted by unattractive women, and alcohol makes them feel entitled to
comment. But the passage of time makes monsters of us all, Anonymous, and the
young, relatively hot straight guys tormenting you today are the bald, paunchy
(and, if there is a God) burn victims of tomorrow.
So
the numbers of guys who can appreciate what you bring to the table—your
humanity, your compassion, your ability to love—will grow over time,
kiddo, and you may find in middle age what your girlfriends found as young
adults. Unless you off yourself in the meantime, Anonymous, in which case you
won't be around to watch those cruel, drunken boys deteriorate, wither, and
die. And why would you want to cheat yourself out of that?
I've
been with my husband for two years and married for one. We eloped in June of
last year and didn't have any sort of honeymoon. Instead, about a month later,
my husband went on an overseas trip with an old college friend. "Bill" is poor
and my husband is well-off, so my husband paid Bill's way. I joked at the time
about how my husband was going on his honeymoon with Bill. Fast-forward to last
week: My husband tells me he is going to a conference in Europe and meeting
Bill there. I thought, okay, no big deal. Well, the day my husband was leaving,
I found out that he was spending the first four days with Bill, Bill's fiancée,
and Bill's sister just hanging out, and that the actual conference didn't start
until the end of the week. I didn't say anything before he left, because I was
so caught off guard. Today I went to a therapist who, after hearing all this,
asked me if I thought my husband was gay.
We
only have sex once a week, because I've forced him to make it an appointment
with me. He does not have a sex drive at all: nothing, nada. So my question is,
should I dump the therapist, or is she on to something? My husband comes back
from his trip on Sunday and I'm dying inside. Help!
Really
Uncertain