Confidence

A friend of mine answered a question I've asked here, 'Why do guys fall all over LS but not me?' He said, "confidence." I kind of already knew that. What turns heads when a girl (or guy) walks in a room isn't just her physical appearance it is also that she knows she looks good. But this has been rattling around in my head for the last week or so because it isn't the whole story. (I'll try and make this the short version)

LS is pretty and smart and she knows it. She also, finally, left her husband at the beginning of May. I can't tell you how many times over the last 3 years she said "well, I don't want these years to have been wasted," or "I don't want to just give up." She wasn't giving up; she'd put up with more shit than anyone should have to to try and make her marriage work. The years aren't wasted, unless she doesn't learn from them! For about three glorious weeks she was that pre-teen I met 11 years ago, who wouldn't take shit off of anyone. Then she was shacked up with another guy. He seemed alright to begin with but latter proved himself to be a jackass. She dumped him, went back, dumped him. Not three days latter she was back with her husband, who has treated her like something you'd scrape off the bottom of your shoe for the last three years (the previous 4 weren't much better, but I digress). She may know she's attractive but I'm not sure her confidence goes much beyond that.

People scare me. (And that's why I take happy pills.) I run from conflict. (I'm 31 and still have to leave the room if my parents argue.) I don't project confidence, I know that. But I keep hoping things will get better. (Why? Search me.) I know I don't need a man to make me happy and I can take care of myself. I like my own company. (Even if I get lonely sometimes.) I know that some really great men love me and some really wonderful strong women, too. I also know I have a lot to offer a guy. Maybe not good skin and rock hard abs, but if that's what is most important to him then he isn't worth worrying about. Even when my 'negative self-talk' has reduced me to a blob of quivering goo that just wants to sink into the floorboards, I get out of bed the next morning.

I may not walk in a room and think I'm the best looking woman in there but I KNOW I'm more than a good rack and a cunt. And that should count for something.