Princess Pretty Average

It’s been almost twenty years since someone I love, my husband, first uttered the alluded to words. Yet I’m still dissecting their potential meaning.

I had been sitting on the couch in my living room when he walked in after a long day. He sat down next to me. Then proceeded to tell me a story that he probably should have shared with a friend or a sibling. For some unknown reason he decided to share it with me.

After he finished, I asked the fated question, “was she pretty?”

And the words that have been tormenting me ever since flowed out of his mouth as if he was simply telling me that he was sorry for saying, but the drapes didn’t match the color of the walls.

Telling My Story

Throughout a person’s life there will be many people who feel the need to tell you what they think of you. These assertions can be left behind for the trash that they are. But when someone we love tells us something hurtful, those words never go away. All positive comments from that moment on will be deemed unbelievable and can feel patronizing.

We can forgive, but never forget. Every time the words find their way back into our consciousness, we are bled just a little bit more of the pure, deep, true love that we feel towards the ones we love.

Why am I telling my story?

Well, when I was in the thick of my pain, I did a Google search and found a woman whose boyfriend had basically shared the same sentiment with her that my husband had said to me. She was deeply hurt. More confused. They lived together and had children. Was she asking too much in wanting to believe that the man that she felt was the best also felt the same about her?

We Are Not Alone

I want other people to know that just because someone you love, that claims to love you, makes a negative proclamation regarding your physical appearance, it does not make it true.

We are not born knowing this simple truth. Most of us don’t have a network of family or friends who impart this simple wisdom upon us throughout our lives. In fact, sometimes that is where the tradition of rating and categorizing females begins, at home, by our parents and other adults around us.

In the end I may, or may not, reveal myself. Simply because this is not about me or what I look like. It’s about sharing the lessons I’ve learned, and am still learning, hopefully helping someone else in the process.

Just think of me as a face in the crowd for now. I could be any one of you out there who puts a smile on your face along with your makeup because someone has hurt you deeply.

Oh, and the words he said. I’ll share them in post #1. This first step was hard enough!

I will post every Friday (beginning August 5th, 2022) for one year. The end goal is to learn from our hurtful experiences, and finally, hopefully, move on.

We all need a little reminder from time to time that our feelings are valid, that we matter, and we are not alone.