The Laws of Attraction...

I am not a hunk. I am not a pretty boy. I am not even considered by most observers to be physically attractive in any way . 

Try to control yourself, ladies.  I'm spoken for.

There is little I can do about this, short of cosmetic surgery. Lose weight, you say? I have done that in the not-so-distant past and it changed very little, so I decided to gain it all back.

Why start a blog with a paragraph of self-deprecation? Because there is a point I will get to in a while. In the meantime, this blog is intended to be honest and I fear that some readers may be offended or insulted. This is not my intention; this is an exercise in self-reflection. The only person I intend to slight is myself in an effort to understand some things I've wondered for a long time. At this point in my life, I think it is fair to air these thoughts because I am, if fact, married and I am safely "off the market." Sorry, ladies, I know you were all lining up for a shot at this Adonis-like perfect example of the male form. Try to be strong.

Physical attractiveness is a very subjective idea, I realize. My wife, to me, is a flat-out cutie. Would everyone agree? Of course not. It is all in the eye of the beholder, to overuse a phrase. What I wonder about, however, is how that "eye of the beholder" works. I truly believe that it is a sliding scale.

We all know that personality goes a long way in someone being desirable (the only way I have ever had any "game"). I have always been attracted to women who are not fashion models (or generally any of them who have said "yes"). I like my girls to be a bit curvy instead of runway-thin. There have been a few exceptions to this, but there always are (see the above bit about personality).

My first question on this deals with the sliding scale I mentioned. Is my idea of an attractive woman directly related to my own self-image? Is this a self-defense mechanism I have put in place over the years to cut down on rejection? I think it probably is. On many occasions, when I was desperately seeking companionship, I would state that particular girls were "out of my league." I still believe this is true, but it isn't all coming from a case of low self-esteem.

Our society places a whole lot of emphasis on "perfection." Let's take a look at Hollywood; in particular, a mostly-forgettable film which comes to mind called Ed TV. This pops into my head not because it's good movie, but because it calls to mind exactly what I am talking about. In it, the actress Jenna Elfman plays the "plain-Jane" role.

I know, it's hard to look at without throwing up in your  mouth a little.

Sure, they made her up to look a bit more girl-next-doorish than she appears here, but that doesn't change the fact that she is a very pretty woman and, without covering her face, she could not ever pass for "plain" in the real world.

So Hollywood would have us believe that Jenna Elfman is not the girl that we guys would just fall all over ourselves for a chance to drink her bath water. Most of us "real" people would never get a glance from this "plain-Jane." My ideas of attraction notwithstanding, I would certainly not turn down an opportunity to spend a night with this hideous creature (in my pre-married days of course).

The sliding scale works in reverse in this case. Jenna would not be attracted to me across a crowded bar because she is in a different "league" than I am in. She would zero in on the muscle-bound douchebag sitting a few tables away. Now, would I approach her? No, because I know I would never have a shot. I would be more attracted to the heavier girl sitting by herself (who is probably looking at the douchebag as well).

In this scenario, there are many things happening. Do I gravitate to the curvy girl because I believe she is more "in my league" and I might have some sort of shot with her? Am I honestly more attracted to her than Jenna? The answer is "yes" on both counts but I still don't quite know why. I'm really leaning toward my "eye of the beholder" coming from a place of relative safety. I have placed myself in this lower "league" but have, ultimately, become content here. Women who are not "Hollywood hot" are more likely to have a lower opinion of themselves and would, therefore, give me a chance out of desperation and loneliness. This sounds like self-loathing on my part, but it is true. This is the way of our society.

I do not hate myself by any stretch of the imagination. There are lots of things that I have to offer. I like to believe that I'm intelligent, funny, and talented at many things. I think I'm a pretty decent writer (and if you've made it this far in this article, there must be something going on) and I am a half-way decent musician. I can also juggle.

I am the kind of guy that relishes any opportunity to be with a woman. In my life, those times didn’t come frequently enough and so, when they did, I appreciated them more than the pretty-boys ever could. I tried to treat those women kind/silly/crazy enough to be with me like royalty. By necessity, I am an old-fashioned romantic (of course my wife may argue this point).

Would Jenna see me a bit differently knowing these things? Of course she would. A long conversation with her would paint me a different light and, in some scenarios, just might have her leaving the bar with me that night. I like to think I can be kind of charming in my own way, so I probably could get the job done if I played my cards right. So what's the problem?

The problem is that this particular conversation in this particular bar could never happen because I have already been dismissed as not one of the "pretty people." I would never have that opportunity, even if I put forth the effort. If I walked up to her at the bar, sat down, and bought her a drink, she would, likely, thank me out of politeness, excuse herself, and move over and hide next to the douchebag. In many ways, I could have turned out to be her soul mate, but she would never know it because my appearance-deficit would prevent our meeting in the first place. I know this is not true in every case, but I think it's safe to say that it is a pretty standard rule.

As an ugly dude, I have done surprisingly well in the romance arena. Probably better than I deserve. I have been with some conventionally attractive women before; one of them even pursued me. Did she see me across a crowded bar and decide she had to have me? No ( though she did see me across a crowded bar). It just so happened that I was with a crowd of relatively unknown people and was desperately seeking their approval by trying to be funny.  My timing was spot-on that night and I caught the lovely lady's eye... or, rather, her ear. Had she been sitting farther away and not heard my amateur improv, none of it would have happened.

Now is the time to prove another point. I have a lot of very attractive female friends. If any of them are reading this (who knew me before I was married) would like to disagree with me (and I know you truthfully cannot), then where were you when I was single? 

Answer: Not attracted to me. It is fine, I get it, and I found my girl in the end. I believe my wife loves me, but even she would be the first to admit that I'm not easy on the eyes. Luckily for me, she was a rare breed and physical attractiveness was not what she was seeking, apparently. I'm not sure what she was seeking... it was certainly not my money (I certainly don’t have much of that).

A friend recently published a blog where he mentioned some things I said in a late-night, drunken conversation. He sort of quoted me as saying that I hate the pretty people. This is not true; I don’t hate anyone. I do very highly dislike people who get whatever they want in this world simply by how they look. A pretty girl bats her eyes and all the men in the room turn into drooling idiots; it makes me sick. I will admit that this mostly comes from jealousy. I won’t pretend it’s much of anything else, but it’s still too easy a way out for them. I know that you should use what you have, but doesn’t that just bolster how shallow our society is?

I, however, am that pretty girl’s Kryptonite (in more ways than I want to admit). She bats the eyes at me and it just makes me angry. I know she is not flirting with me. I know there is no animal magnetism. I know there is no interest in me save whatever it is she wants me to do for her (get her another drink, give her a cigarette, erase myself from existence). My lack of good looks has actually saved me money and time over the years, so I’m thankful for that.

When I was a child, I wanted to try my hand at acting (I was actually a cute kid…a long time ago). As I got older, I realized that this could not happen as, even at a fairly young age, I realized that I didn’t have the face for being in movies or TV and, thus, scrapped that idea pretty quickly. No amount of hard work, perseverance, and study could land me a leading role in anything. I could be the greatest thespian in the free world (next to John Lovitz, of course) and still never get to play a lead role in anything. When you have goals, why shoot for anything less than the top. In my case, however, there would only be so far I could get. Seemed a bad dream to have if you know you can never reach the pinnacle. I, therefore, tried to move into other talents.

Now, to put aside all this whiny, self-deprecation and posit a different universe. In this fantasy, I have grown up as an attractive man. I have my choice of the women in any social situation I find myself in. I have a good job (which I got by flashing my perfect smile to a female manager in an interview. Yes, it works both ways people) and I am financially secure (we’ll discuss that one later).

Would this mean I was a happier person?  I certainly would get to do some things I will never get to do in my other life.  I would probably have bedded many more partners (and some ailments that come along with it).  I probably would be driving a sports car and living the playboy lifestyle.  In this scenario, I do catch Jenna's eye across the crowded bar.

In this scenario, I am the douchebag.

Would I have ever learned to play the guitar?  Maybe.  Would I have striven to become a writer?  Probably not.  Spending lots of time alone or with friends has bolstered creativity in my life that would have never come from being a hot douchebag.  Would I have learned to juggle?  Who cares.

Most importantly, would my taste in women be the same?  Well, my sliding scale theory says "no."  Some of the women in my life that I love (and loved) the most would never have caught my eye.  I would have been the shallow guy that would have looked right past my wife and gone for the equally shallow (societally dictated) raving beauty that couldn't tell me who the President was (not to say that Jenna is not intelligent.  She continues to be my example for narrative purposes).

In the course of writing this article, I find that I am much happier in the "league" that I am in.

Ain't we cute

I believe that I am a better person for having been born with this face.  The road getting here was a rough one, but I'm here nonetheless.  For all the beautiful people, you can bat your eyes at someone who gives a damn.