I was reading an article today about how romance novels give women unreasonable expectations, ruin marriages, cause baby cancer, etc. Of course, this article was written by a man. Most likely a 42 year old virgin who lives in his mom’s basement. However, I can’t say I entirely disagree with him
My main point of contention comes from the fact that there is a concern far more pressing that needs to be addressed. It is far more prevalent and way more damaging. I call it the hot wife/fat guy sitcom.
We’ve seen the same familiar pairing over the years. Mr Huckstable and his way too fine for him wife, Clair. Ralph and Alice on “The Honeymooners”, Aunt Viv and Uncle Phil on “Fresh Prince”. Hell, even cartoons pull that shit, with Wilma and Fred on “The Flinstones” to Homer and Marge on “The Simpsons”.
Over and over again, we’re met with the premise that women, rather than men, are capable of looking inside someone to see their inner beauty. They fall in love with these guys for their personalities, not their looks and money.
Wanna hear a secret? Women are just as superficial as men. Generally, if you see a couple that looks like Doug and Carrie on “King of Queens”, you can be sure of at least one of three things.
- He’s rich
- He’s extremely rich
- He is really a wonderful person, with a beautiful soul…and she’s blind…and he’s also rich
Women are somehow held to this higher standard of being blind to looks when it’s just not true. Case in point? Myself.
Back in the days of yore*, I developed a crush on a coworker. Not one of those normal little crushes either. This one was a full on, stalkeresque, googled him regularly, followed his Facebook status praying for a breakup with his girlfriend, crush.
Yeah, I know I’m a psycho. And if you’re reading this wondering if it was you, rest assured, it wasn’t. This dude didn’t know that I was alive. Why?
Simple. Aesthetic disproportionism…which is a phrase I made up. Simply stated, our attractiveness levels didn’t match. As stated in a previous blog, I am a solid 6 on the 1 to 10 scientific attractiveness grading scale. This guy was about a 37. So he dated another 37 and I lusted after him from afar.
Then one day I asked myself why I was convinced he was my soulmate. Was it because he was so nice, so smart, so funny? What was so damn special about him? Or was I really so superficial that the only reason I was crazy about him was because he looked like Julian MacMahon?
So the next time we talked, I devised a simple test. When he was talking, I closed my eyes. Suddenly, he just became…normal. He wasn’t any different than he had been before. I just had a little much needed perspective.
So maybe the difference between men and women is that I did that at all. That I cared enough over whether I was being superficial to test myself. Maybe it’s not really that all women are beauty blind. Maybe we’re just a little more guilt ridden over the whole thing. Maybe we’re more focused on finding the difference between love and lust.
Or, maybe I’m just a bitch.
*before I killed my sex drive with regular substance abuse.