beautiful girls have nothing useful to say
Is getting picked worth trading in my sense of self?
It was Fall in the suburbs and I was 13-years-old. Each morning I’d ride the bus to school while listening to Clairo’s “Pretty girl.” I didn’t know much, but I knew when Clairo sang, “I could be your pretty girl / I’ll wear a skirt for you / … Shut up when you want me to,” something within me settled into place.
Clairo sang to me my dream life. Being pretty. Being soft. Being chosen. I tried to stay with her on the bus–in that fantasy–for as long as I could.
What Clairo spoke of was a dream that felt worlds away from me. I wasn’t conventionally beautiful. Without thinness or whiteness the goal of being picked was entirely roped off.
It was a fact that devastated me. It took me getting a little bit older to realize that if I wanted love that badly, I was going to have to get it by force.
So I made a plan. I slipped into short dresses. I took up running. I learned how to wax my legs at home. I stopped eating. I became a Pretty Girl.
The time between my transformation and Getting Picked was longer than I’d like to admit, but by the time I found myself in a man's arms for the first time, I was mostly happy.
I was living out my fantasy but I realized quickly I had missed something. His eyes would drift when I talked about myself. He didn’t ask me any questions. I’d tell him stories and his only response was to put his hand up my leg. I realized then: I am supposed to be quiet.
In my fantasy I assumed I would be a beautiful girl, chosen by a man and I would be loved and celebrated in every conceivable way. My time away from men made me naive. I didn’t understand the actual exchange happening.
Becoming beautiful didn’t mean that the complexity of my internal world would finally be appreciated, it meant it went away entirely. Pretty Girls were vacant girls, consumed entirely by the external.
I was faced with a difficult question: remain as I am, picked and beautiful or choose to have a sense of self again. The choice was difficult.
Listening to a song like “Pretty Girl” feels scandalous. I shouldn’t indulge in a fantasy where I am small and weak, but in all fairness, girls were never taught to be anything else. Deep down, I wanted to be delicate, but I could never say that out loud. Living with that secret was killing me.
Of course, I knew a life where I am loud and unapologetically me, never shrinking for any man, would be what is best. But letting go of a lifetime of conditioning trying to get me to be the opposite was not going to be easy.
At times the desire to be small and docile is too strong to ignore. In some moments I just want to smile and nod. I just want to ignore myself if it means I’ll be held. In those times all I can offer myself is the desire for something different.
I cling to the mental image of being celebrated without shrinking. In those moments I can not make a bold declaration of me asserting independence and swearing off people-pleasing. All I can muster is a gentle reminder that a better way of being is possible and available–that is enough.
Well said. This comes at the perfect time, as I’ve unfortunately just started slipping back into a beauty obsession (it is summer, after all). At times when external beauty’s self-imposed burden spontaneously springs on me, I always feel myself slipping away. Instead of reading books, I listen to podcasts on “feminine tips” and the like. It is always an effort (though it is the most important) to remind myself that it is not my job to make me palatable for others.
Thank you, Paris, for writing about your experience and feelings so honestly. I agree. Many men want a pretty girl who is soft, docile, and quiet. I once heard a man talk about a beautiful woman he had met. She was perfect on the outside. The minute she opened her mouth, he was turned off. He wanted to tell her to please be quiet so he could enjoy her fully. As he told this story, all the men around the table laughed.
Your story intrigued me because I have felt exactly the opposite. I have felt that beautiful women have an opportunity to be vocal, strong, opinionated, and trailblazers. If a man doesn’t like them that way, oh well, another man will come along, someone better who wants to know her as more than a sex object. An example is Gloria Steinem. She leveraged her beauty to fuel a whole movement, and men were always attracted to her. But maybe we are talking about two different things here? The difference between a pretty girl and a beautiful woman?
My biggest problems as a pretty girl came from low self-esteem and from not believing in myself. After going through therapy, and healing many wounds, I found that men were more interested in me as a whole person and not just as a pretty girl.
But beauty is power and men are attracted to women who make them feel stronger. The stronger and more beautiful you are, the stronger a man needs to feel to have the confidence to take you on. At least I suspect that is the way it works.
Sorry to go on so long, but this is a conundrum that I’ve been trying to understand for a long time. Thank you for helping me see things from a different perspective. I admire your honesty and your insight.