A grand adventure of sorts.
"Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery." -Jane Austen
I left town last weekend for a bit of an adventure. My friend, Isabel suggested that we ditch this utterly lifeless city and take a trip to St. George to meet up with some friends and be counselors at a one-day EFY session. I was more than hesitant to agree because I can often be a stick in the mud and am always swamped with my grad studies. But after much hemming and hawing, I talked myself into going along. Little did I know that my overzealous friend was basically kidnapping me. Every day for the week before we actually left, she would text me to remind me to bring such and such pair of shoes or such and such swimsuit and to "get pumped up" about our road trip. Being the sort of person who doesn't respond well to direct approaches for most things, I became quite irritable and considered backing out of the trip at least a dozen times. But Isabel was adamant that it would be "good for me" to get out of town and "hang out with people." The night before we were to embark, Isabel revealed to me with the worst news possible.
After hashing out an incredibly detailed itinerary for every spare moment of the weekend, Isabel told me, "Oh and by the way, we're going on a double date tomorrow night."
Excuse me?
Have I ever mentioned how I hate being set up on dates? How I despise it? How I loathe it? Well I do. I do not trust many people to set me up on dates. And by many, I actually mean: none. I do not trust anyone to set me up on a date. Not my mother (especially not my mother), not my sisters, not my best friends, not my cousin, not my next door neighbor, not my next door neighbor's dog. NO ONE. I could generate a list a mile long that contains all the things that I would rather do than be set up on a date, but I will spare you the pain of having to read such a list.
Needless to say, I was infuriated. Beyond infuriated. Now, I love Isabel. I do. She is my closest friend in this town, but she can be pushy and demanding and downright selfish at times. She is also the world's greatest flirt (that being said from the lips of a coquette) and every time I talk to her she is interested in a new guy. So I just knew in my heart of hearts that this date I was being forced on was actually set up so that she could go out with her newest crush and I would be stuck with whoever could be scrounged up.
Was a wrong?
I am never wrong. (Scratch that. I am often wrong, but I am also often right.). I attempted to disguise my sour mood during our hours of driving and made Isabel listen to Noah Guthrie's version of "Sexy and I Know It" dozens of times for penance (she loved it, so I don't think it was a well thought out plan). All the while, my insides were boiling (with rage, not indigestion). When we arrived at the restaurant, Isabel and I caught a glimpse of our prospective dates. I knew immediately which date was Isabel's and which was mine. Isabel turned to me with a face of horror, "I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I am sooo sorry." But I was instantly set at ease. I will not relay to you the particulars of what there was to apologize for about my date because it is frankly unimportant as well as incurably shallow. To make a long story short, Isabel somehow had the most boring date of her life, and I was amazingly comfortable and had a wonderful time with my date.
Let it be known that I would much rather date a funny man than a handsome man.
And the weekend that I thought would be better filled with studying? It turned out to be exactly what I needed just as Isabel predicted. If you don't know this already, EFY counselors are the greatest flirts in the world. Isabel and I spent the entire weekend with the other counselors, and it was simply the best.
On one of our evenings together, someone (I cannot recall who) initiated a massive cuddle session. Absolutely everyone was cuddling with someone else. It was one of the strangest phenomenons I have ever witnessed. Somehow I found myself pulled onto the lap of a man without having done a thing to initiate it. "Hey, I'm Mark," he whispered. "Uh...The Lady," I giggled sheepishly. Goodness knows it had been so long since I had cuddled with anyone, I was quite content all evening. Now if you were to ask me this man's real name or even what he looked like, I could not tell you. It was simply nice. Is that horrible?
The rest of my time in St. George was spent flirting with one of the other EFY counselors whom I will call The Artist. Out of all the many people I met that weekend, he was by far my favorite. He has such a good sense of humor and made me feel as though I were the most delightful creature. And he was forthright enough to ask for my number and has been texting me everyday since I've been back. It has been ages since something like this has happened to me, and I am relieved that there are people in the world who do not think that 23 is a monstrous age.
However, there is a hitch. As always. The Artist is . . . how to put this delicately . . . somewhat scrawny. I know it sounds terribly and awfully shallow, but please understand that I am not exactly a dainty sparrow. Now don't let your imaginations run wild, but when I dated Mr. Cowboy and Dex, their favorite physical attribute of yours truly was that "my hips don't lie". I wish they lied a little, but it is what it is. I may be grossly exaggerating, but when I'm next to The Artist I feel like a giant. Some girls can get away with dating small guys, but I simply don't think I can be one of them. Of course there is nothing wrong with small guys. Nothing at all. I just don't feel as though I'm a small enough girl to date a small guy. It's like The Bluestocking and her height. It's a thing. Is it a thing?
This is definitely one of those situations that would never happen in a Jane Austen novel. Lizzie's qualm with Mr. Darcy was NOT that he was small in stature.
Is this a deal breaker?
Con Amor,
The Lady
3 comments:
It's not shallow. It's okay to be attracted to certain physical attributes. Sure, you don't want to dismiss someone at first glance, but you don't have to force yourself into thinking that someone is attractive to you. We all have our preferences, and that's okay. It doesn't have to be a deal breaker, though, if you like him enough to want to date him. Are there other attributes about him that make him attractive enough to you that you don't mind his small stature? Also, even if you don't want to date him, it's always nice to have guys friends who are funny and who you feel you can be yourself around, regardless of whether or not you are attracted to them.
I hope I don't sound incredibly rude or finger-wagging here. If you're still physically attracted to him, I say go for it :) It's okay to avoid a relationship because you're not physically attracted. That's not shallow - it's smart and it helps avoid marriage problems later. But if you're avoiding a relationship because you think it might draw others' attention to something you feel insecure about, you might be missing out on a great relationship.
I'm speaking from experience - my husband's on the low end of the weight scale, and I'm a lot larger than he is. I used to have some of the same concerns about our size differences, but we're both really attracted to each other, and we're extremely happy together. And I've realized that it doesn't really matter what other people might think about our physical differences (most people don't really dwell on it anyways). When I see other couples, I never really think about how much bigger or taller etc. one of them is. But whether or not anyone else focuses on it, you should choose to date whoever makes you truly happy, without regard for what anyone else might think. That's obviously a lot easier said than done, but it's something to keep in mind. I know it's probably exhausting to get advice from a married person, but I thought it might be helpful to have a perspective from someone who was in a similar situation and decided to pursue a relationship anyways. So, in my experience - not a deal breaker. Good luck :)
I like how we're getting a lot more posts recently... Keep 'em comin'!! :)
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