Thursday, November 8, 2007

attractive

So last night I was at a work event, a reception. There were mirrors all over the walls, and I kept catching glimpses of myself. I was wearing a new jacket, which had received many compliments. I had my hair cut a week or so ago and that had also received compliments. I've lost 10 pounds in the past 2 weeks.

And I hated every glimpse I saw. I wanted to feel attractive, desirable, sexy. Instead I felt frumpy, unattractive, not pretty. I'm tired, with dark circles, I weigh too much, I look sad.

Every time I would start to feel ok, suddenly there'd be a glimpse and I'd come crashing back down.

Once when fighting with an old boyfriend, years and years and years ago, he told me that I was unapproachable. We lived in a college town with lots of bar hopping, and he said I looked aloof. I still consider this one of the more cutting things anyone has ever said to me. Later, he tried to say I was classy, and not someone you'd approach in a college bar if one was looking for a random hookup. But deep in my heart I know I'm just not attractive.

Part of my fear of losing my husband is being single again. Who would ever want me, an unattractive 40 year old single mom? I know many women feel this way, and many find love after heartache.

I'm sad today. My husband and I did not talk last night. We've exchanged one e-mail, but purely functional, nothing else. He comes home tonight, and I have no idea what to expect. Will he move out tomorrow? I don't know. Will we talk tonight? I can't even guess.

We have a joint counseling session on Tuesday. It seems an interminable time away.

2 comments:

niobe said...

I don't know if this will help at all, but one thing I tell myself when I'm depressed or anxious and imagining a horrible, empty future is that I can't believe anything I'm thinking. That my depression or axiety is lying to me. That I'm not able to think straight right now.

Which Box said...

I do the same thing. White knuckle through the bad feelings/anxiety. I'm a good liar, even to myself.

The damn mirrors made it harder.