Pretty

“Do you think you’re not pretty then?” he asked.

I was rather brought up short by that one. Obviously the impression I was giving my male companion, with my description of Ruf’s previous women, implied that I didn’t think I compared favourably.

Sure, I have enough male attention every day to be fairly confident that I don’t need to put a bag over my head, but I certainly wouldn’t class myself as a ‘looker’.

I don’t think I’m terribly photogenic – I’m one of those quick movers, full of facial expression and can sometimes appear to be gurning if caught at the wrong moment :)

I suspect it would be fair to say that I am not conventionally pretty but I do appear to be appealling to enough members of the opposite sex, who do not have guide dogs or dark glasses, to qualify as attractive.

Remembering that Michelle Pfeiffer once likened herself to a duck and other beautiful people who are also very insecure about their looks, I guess that there are not too many human beings who really do think they are gorgeous.

The important thing is, do the people you want to like you, like you?,

Well that’s difficult, bearing in mind the attitude of both my Husband, whose failure to compliment has been spoken of here ad nauseum, and my first crush, for whom I carried a torch for six years and who told me I had a big arse before he went on to date and marry a beanpole. After those two formative experiences, I tended to think that probably I wasn’t pretty enough for the people I wanted to like me, to do so.

However, Ruf has stopped suddenly, mid-sentence, to announce ‘You know, you’re really pretty’ often enough that to state baldly that I’m not would be incredibly insulting to his taste and make me appear to be fishing for compliments.

Sometimes you just have to go with the general concensus :)