I lay across from my roommate Lottie. She wraps her hair around flamingo-pink curlers and holds it in place until steam rises from the metal. “But, I know I’m hot
,” she said. “However, when I meet people for the first time, I worry about coming across as boring.”
I don’t know how we got it done, but we’re discussing Whether we’d rather someone think we’re ugly or boring. Unlike Lottie, I’m confident that I’m funny, so if someone doesn’t see that, I just think they’re stupid. When it comes to my image, I’m not so sure.
I’ve been asking this hard question all week – I guess because it seems to say a lot about what a person thinks is important. “Definitely rather they think I’m ugly, ’ said a friend. “The thought of her looking at me and thinking, ‘Get down to business, okay?’ Makes me want to die.”
“Wait, she Who?” I asked my friend, realizing they’d just introduced another dilemma factor I hadn’t even considered: whoever you imagine making snap judgments about you is probably you The kind of person who tends to seek approval. Turns out my friend was thinking of a woman we knew, a beautiful woman, yes, but wittier than a Succession writer, with the charisma of a narcissist, and no personality disorder .
I’m too embarrassed to say who I’m thinking about. I thought of a guy in a bar…no man in particular, just a man.
I’ve known for aa While I definitely had issues with needing men, this conversation made it crystallize. I wanted to address this issue as I became more and more aware of how it affected my sense of self.
At a house party the other day, a guy I liked didn’t seem all that interested in me. I might look like I’m just dancing with my friends, but I’m actually trying to get attention because I know it’ll make me feel better. Then I had this annoying thing where one side of my brain was talking to the other – “Why can’t you have fun? Stop being weird!” – and I drank until I couldn’t hear anymore to my own thoughts until my head feels fuzzy and warm like cotton wool.