Obsessed with the Beauty Contest

For the past month or so I have been taking an acting class. Mostly for fun, I wanted to reintroduce myself into a world that I have been apart from for way too long. It has been going fantastically. I never realized how much I missed and loved acting until I started these classes. Consider my flare from drama reignited.

The week before Halloween, I was casually chating with a couple of my classmates on my way home from class. Eventually, the group dwindled down to one of the boys, who we’ll call Greg, and me. We were walking in the same direction toward Spadina — he going to get food, me going home. When we set to part ways, he asked me my plans for Halloween and promptly invited me to his party at a local pub. I smiled politely and said casually that I was just spending the night with my boyfriend, and probably not doing anything special, but maybe we’ll swing by night of. Greg acted cool, but it was pretty apparent that he did not account for the boyfriend factor. He took my number and promised to text me that night to get my name on the guest list or whatever. He never did (not that I had any plans of actually attending). In fact, Greg has been royally jerky ever since. Granted, he still says hi to me at the beginning of class, but there is a distinct air of jerk permeating from his vicinity.

Apparently, once the prospect of a relationship was taken off the table, as was the general use for me.  If this boy was interested in me as a person, intrigued by my wit, humor and talent on the stage, then friendship would have sufficed, correct? He does not act shy or embarrassed– he does not avoid me out of self pity. No, this boy thought of me as a nice piece of ass and nothing more. I can not imagine anything more insulting or infuriating. I am a lot more than a nice piece of ass. His failure to acknowledge that is entirely his loss, however I can not seem to get over this encounter with objectification. I hate to be thought of as merely a pretty face, in fact I would not count my pretty face as one of  my most attractive qualities. I think that my personality far outshines my looks. To discount my intelligence is profoundly insulting.

I’m sure women do this too, it is not something to be soley attributed to men. And to be fair, I’m not in Greg’s head, I don’t know his motives or his thoughts. This could be my inner feminist, to mix metaphors, gnashing it’s ugly teeth at straws.  My impression of the situation is all I can avdocate. This instance differs from the men on the street who cat call and double take. This boy took the time to talk to me, he knows me to a certian extent. The men on the street don’t have the oppotunity to be my friend or discover  my charm, I can not judge them for only noticing my looks and I refuse to make the assertion that being pretty is just this huge burden a la Mischa Barton. I’m not complaining about being considered pretty, but a la Odette from The Swan Princess, there is more to me.


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