Tuesday, May 10, 2011

beautiful. (no matter what they say).

Today at the gym, a guy walked up to the station where I was working out and said "Can I tell you something without you misunderstanding?"

He was probably late 20's; I guessed from his accent and face that he was Middle-Eastern.  He was a little short, but had nice features.

I instantly and instinctively put up an icy cold barrier.  Distrust and skepticism must have been written all over my face.  "Uh, maybe?"  Watch it, dude. I have a glare of death and killer-sharp instincts and I'm not afraid to use them.

"Ok, well.  I just wanted to tell you you are so beautiful."

"Thank you..." What is it that you want?!

"And I suppose you have a boyfriend, and he is so lucky."

Ice melted slightly.  No way I'm telling you I don't have a boyfriend. "Thank you."

And he walked away.  What? He just wanted to tell me I'm beautiful?  I waited until he was a safe distance away and allowed myself a tiny smile.

Immediately, however, my defense-mechanism sprang into action.  There were a dozen reasons why he could have done what he did.  Some of the most absurd were:
It was a dare.
He was distracting me so his friends could steal my stuff.
He's a stalker.
He was distracting me so his friends could steal my roommate's stuff.
His ugly friend asked him to talk to me for him.
It was definitely a dare.
He has a contorted mission in life to tell ugly/overweight girls they are beautiful.

I kept waiting for my pessimism to be proven absolutely firm and then I would go home hurt and hardened.  Mostly, I looked around at all the girls that were prettier and skinnier than I was.  Why me?? Surely this guy's motive was skewed.  Surely it was a loaded interaction.

Yet, I'm safely home.  My roommate and I both still have our stuff.  No ugly guys smiled at me on my way out.  And I feel more beautiful.  I am so thankful to that stranger for the much-needed reminder.