MAIA WROTE: I was once a young, party-going, drinking, and hooking up kinda gal, but I’ve always been a little too fat, short, frizzy haired, and serious to be considered hot. I’ve spent most of my adult life making decisions based on the reality that I couldn’t get by on my looks so I needed to be extra diligent about making people believe I was competent and able to handle everything. I’m not sure if I ever fooled anyone into to believing that, but I managed to fool myself, at least through my twenties and early thirties.
Then life happened–failed relationships, cancer, and financial mess.
I no longer wanted the hot guy who was looking for someone like his Mom or the guy that was good for a couple of nights but was so self absorbed in his groovy self discovery that he didn’t have a real interest in me. So I had to face the fact that I couldn’t just rely on my smarts or self-reliant nature.
After all, how could a smart and independent girl have made such dumb choices in men, let herself get cancer, and not manage or make enough money to support herself? And then the worst happened. I realized I needed other people and I wanted a man who was at least capable of taking care of himself and of me, even if I could take care of myself.
I am now interested in the pedestrian, in talking to my friends about their kids (or the fear of having or not being able to have them); husbands, wives, and life partners (keeping, divorcing, or finding one); weight gain (I don’t know anyone, not even my skinniest friends who are worried about being too thin); juice fasts and colonics; mortgages; bosses; and the other sundries of everyday life.
Today I am formerly smart and independent and currently average and happy.