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Deep Thoughts: Is My

Boyfriend The Prettier One?

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When Considering Whether To Enter A Relationship With A Hunky Guy, Should A Gal Consider What Impact His Hotness Will Have On Her Psyche?

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By Jacy Wrage
Special for Modern Times Magazine

Aug. 20, 2015 — One of the greatest joys of being a woman is the inability to turn off the ever-present news feed of irrational thoughts in your own head.

My brain is constantly firing off every strange notion one can possibly have in a 24 hour period. And yes, some thoughts are worsened by the on-set of a biological period. Mostly, these thoughts are insecurity based because being a lady is fantastic for your self-esteem. But believe me when I say nothing will make you more acutely aware of this than striking up a romantic relationship with a very pretty man.

For those unfamiliar with such an occurrence, let me paint a picture using my own experience. I once dated a guy who was prettier than most women I know. He had every single facial attribute chicks throw money away on annually in an effort to replicate.

His lashes were so long and full they reminded me of hairy, little Venus fly traps that I wanted to curl-up and live inside of just to know their secrets.

His eyebrows were so naturally symmetrical that I found myself describing them to a waxing guide in an effort to match my own boyfriends face framers.

The only category I thought I was sweeping was the crowning glory category but only by default. He had been shaving his head for the past 12 years, after all, so I had no idea what I was up against.

Why shave it, you ask?

“It’s too thick to deal with!”, a direct quote.

Ugh, geez, ugh, that’s awful!

Awfully true.

To drive this theory home, his mother once showed me a middle school photo as further proof that, sure as shit, he was dealing with a Pocahontas mane.

I couldn't catch a break and to make matters worse the man was equipped with deep dimples. Deep enough to hold the tears of an angel, deep.

My own mother even stated, perhaps after too many diet beers, that if we ever procreated and the kid came out devoid of its own angelic dimple set... She would send the kid back from whence it came.

Why would she do that?!...Could she do that?!

Speaking of things I didn't know you could do, Pretty Boyfriend could put away a small lake’s worth of Coors Light yet keep a well defined abdomen. The man had no body fat. He was incapable of gaining weight in unflattering areas no matter what kind of garbage he might decide to fuel himself with.

I become bloated if I read a menu for Pita Jungle.

He was quickly becoming my fiercest competition in the beauty contest I held in my head and I had no one to blame but myself.

What was happening to me?!

He had no control over his genetic jack-pot. But I had all sorts of control over my inner dumb-dumb. The guy just wanted to be with me. Regardless of how patchy my brows were or if my broomstick lashes never curled towards my hairline. He didn't view me with the same judgmental eyeballs that I was, shamefully, viewing him with. Had I even voiced my insecurities about our physical comparisons he would have furrowed his magnificent brow-fur and laughed because it was a complete non-issue in his mind. I was too vain for my own good and it was making me the non pretty partner for sure.

Physical beauty doesn’t mean shit in the scheme of things. But I am human, after all, and egos are tricky sons of bitches. These thoughts happen and you may not be very proud of them but rest assured other self-conscious people have had them too. It's easy to look at someone we find attractive and become upset with ourselves when we feel like we don't “measure up". It even becomes confusing when we find ourselves in a relationship with that someone. What, with the surge in metro-sexuality, man-buns, man-scapes and Ruby Rose it would be dishonest to say women aren't concerned with the expectations that come along in the pretty paradigm shift. Everyone, it seems, is now feeling the pressure to look better than they did the day before.

Potentially poisoning a healthy relationship with my teenage girl thought bubbles wasn't going to fix shit. It did, however, point a finger towards the real issue…

I was just being a little bitch.

So if nothing else, let my neurotic inner monologue serve as a lesson in rational vs. irrational thinking as well as the quickest way in which to drain your dating pool of hot dudes.

After all, Insecurities are like buttholes, everyone has them and they stink.

Didn’t Emerson say that?
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