More Than a Pretty Face

Have you ever noticed that you've been doing something consistently, maybe daily - but you don't even know you were doing it until the day you stop?

Every morning when I wake up and trudge to the bathroom to start the grooming process, I stand before the mirror and take a look. I spend a few seconds evaluating what position, height or smooshiness my hair decided to form itself into during my sleep. Ponder any puffiness or pillow lines in my face. Then wonder to myself, "Am I pretty enough for a husband to love?", "Is this a face a man would be happy to wake up to each morning?"

I have no idea when I started doing that. My gut says it began about the time my relationship with Mr. Burns ended. Maybe it was way before that.  Perhaps it has something to do with my brother glaring at me across the breakfast table, years ago on a weekend visit, when I had short, layered hair which tumbled and hovered all about my head by morning, and saying, "Sheesh, I feel sorry for the man who will have to wake up next to you."

But each morning, after sizing myself up, I have determined, "Yes, I'm pretty. Someone should feel fortunate to see this face each day."

Back in my 20s when I was still optimistic on first dates, if I liked the guy, I would take a moment to assess if his was a face I would want see across the dinner table every day for the rest of my life. (it was not so much about how attractive he was, just if I liked his face. Because admit it, there are faces you don't want to see across from yours every day!) I guess I assumed they did the same to me.

Well, about a week ago, I stumbled to the bathroom one morning, studied the mirror for a second before thinking, "Who cares? It doesn't matter."

That may sound like success.  But it was when my BFF said, "Good for you!", that I realized, no, it's not success. It's not progress. It's something more like despair.

It felt more like, "If there is never ever a day in my life that I get to wake up next to my husband, what does it matter if my face is pleasing?"

Imagine there's a lovely painting that went straight into a dark dusty attic before ever having an audience, then the house burns down and no one ever got to appreciate it. Does it matter how pretty it was? What care the painter put into each brushstroke? Nope. It's a painting that never fulfilled it's destiny. Calling it a shame is generous. What you mean is that it never mattered.

It doesn't matter. Who cares?

That's one of the things that I struggle with in just my daily life. Everywhere I go, I see couples. Out to lunch, at the mall, even driving down the street. Most places I see couples, I wonder what brought them together. Did they simply find each other attractive? Do they ever even discuss the wonder of God's gifts to the world? Have they ever even been to church together? Do they visit the elderly? Volunteer at the city mission together? Then why do they deserve to have a companion in life?

Of course, I know attraction has to do with more than just the physical. But I also realize if a man is ever going to fall in love with me, he'll have to find me attractive first.

I don't like to admit this, but sometimes I look at couples and find the wife to be frumpy or homely and it just makes me frustrated. If I'm doing my job of looking good enough, and being dismissed - how did Ms. Frumalump over there get a husband? Hey, I'm not proud of these thoughts - but there they are. It possibly has to do with the emphasis my mom put on always looking my best. As though it's disrespectful to thrust yourself into society without a bit of blush and lipstick. It's just common courtesy to be put together. Why wouldn't you look your best?

That's part of the agony of being single during the entire span of your life. You know that your other fine qualities are more important in sustaining a relationship. But no one will ever notice all those fine qualities if they don't notice a pretty face first.

Ultimately the pretty face doesn't really matter, and after a lifetime of making sure you possess that okay-looking face, it's a harsh truth to realize. Worst of all, then what?

My Heart is not Broken

But my ovaries are mad as hell.

I'm not sure exactly how Mr. Burns and I started spending time together again. It was in the spring, about six months after we broke up. He told me then, that he finally realized that he cared more about my well-being than for his own.

I figured that was worth a second chance.

I didn't take to it very easily. He took me out for my birthday (in June) and took to nuzzling me like giddy teenager - so excited to be with me. I wanted to enjoy that, as I had waited so long for such a display. But it made me uncomfortable, in part because I had just spent six months trying to move on from him and in part because I just didn't believe it was real.

By the time I was ready for him be crazy about me - he was past it. He was also past putting my well-being before his own.


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This weekend, he told me that he thought he had done every thing possible to try to make me happy, and that it just didn't work. (My friends are throwing down Bull Sh!t flags all over this statement)

So, my bloggy friends - the singles in particular - heed my warnings:

1) When the man you are crazy about makes no efforts to meet your parents and family - he's not invested. This should happen anywhere from 4 months to 9 months into your relationship. Not 2 1/2 years.

2) When he takes his sister from out-of-state on overnight trips - but never plans one with you (and I'm not talking about boinking - I'm just referring to a nice little trip essential for bonding) he's not invested. Again, this usually happens in the first 3-9 months of a relationship - not years!!

3) If there is always a reason that he can't join you to meet your friends, to meet your parents... even if it appears it's not his fault ... even if it's a 9 hour drive -- he's out of town on a work trip that just came up - or he just got back from said trip and it's not convenient. He is so not invested. Everyone I know in happy relationships, married or not - would just show up even if they're covered in grease or ash or cow manure or operating on two hours sleep. If he cared, he'd make it there.

Also,

4) A man who wants to win your heart will spontaneously do nice things for you. Like fix the window in your kitchen that sticks. Or install a smoke detector. Or wash your car. He will notice these things on his own and just do them. He will not ask you to make a list that he will never get to.

He does these things because your well-being means more to him than sleep, or fear of heights or the 20 minute drive between your houses.

Do not spend 3 years of your life with the guy who doesn't... thinking that he will get there eventually. He won't. Let him be someone else's heartache.

Turn your heart back over to God... and send the next man straight to God to ask for it if he wants it.

Mr. Burns and I broke up. I'm okay. I'm over it. I've already started an online dating profile. I'm only upset that my last few years of child-bearing potential have been wasted. Hence the comment from my ovaries!! My friends new boyfriend - the one who installed 5 new smoke detectors in her rented house... remarked, "TRS, you don't look like you're going to be 40!" I replied, "Thank you. Tell that to my ovaries."

In Mass on Sunday... the first four notes of a song brought me to tears. A song that to me, sums up the relationship that I want with one of God's earthly men:

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Will you let me be your servant, Let me be as Christ to you; Pray that I may have the grace to Let you be my servant, too.

We are pilgrims on a journey, We are travelers on the road; We are here to help each other. Walk the mile and bear the load.

I will hold the Christlight for you In the night-time of your fear; I will hold my hand out to you, Speak the peace you long to hear.

I will weep when you are weeping; When you laugh I'll laugh with you. I will share your joy and sorrow, Till we've seen this journey through.

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When we sing to God in heaven We shall find such harmony, Born of all we've known together Of Christ's love and agony.

Text & Tune: Richard Gillard ©1977, Scripture in Song