Don't you love the backhanded compliment? You know, the one, when taken at face value, seems harmless and sweet and makes you gush forward thank yous? But, then hours later, when you truly sit and think about it, you realize the "complimenter" just delivered the perfect one line insult?
That's what "Men in England would LOVE you!" was for me. It followed a conversation about how I was trying to drop a few pounds with Weight Watchers and how my hair was a unique color. Here, let me set the stage for you. My adviser and I were having a pow-wow in her office. Now, I loved her. I still do. She would bend over backwards to help me or any of the other students in my class. However, she always made me feel like maybe I wasn't quite good enough. This was likely due to her own insecurities about herself. But, I digress.
So, we're chatting and she was inquiring about my love life, my outside interests, and my hair color. I told her I had no time for a boyfriend. My outside interests were mostly non-existent - I was a med student AND student government president, for God's sakes! Unless outside interests include drinking wine and and an instant messenger addiction? However, I had recently began Weight Watchers and had started visiting Wellworks, the wellness center across the street. My adviser, a long time follower of Weight Watchers, became very excited and shared her tips, recipes, and thoughts about the amazingness of the program. Now, truly, WW is a miracle. Anyone who has followed the program for any length of time will agree to that. WW is actually what I recommend to my patients. Anyway, she gushed on and on about WW, emphasizing that I should try to lose weight to be more HEALTHY, not just to look better. Ok, fine, I agree. But, c'mon now, who doesn't want to look better and have a sexy, bikini-ready bod?!?
Anyhow, somehow, this continued into a conversation about my hair. Now, I have strawberry blonde hair that rarely hangs below my shoulders. It's thin and difficult to manage. Most of the time, it's in a boring bob that is too short to pull into a ponytail, mostly because if it is long enough to be pulled back, it will be. I would love to have thick, shiny, luxurious, long hair that cascades down my back. You know, the kind that you see on the Pantene commercials. But, I've grown attached to the color of my hair - it's unique, it compliments my uber-pale skin, and it looks great with the colors that I love to wear. Anyway, my adviser proceeded to tell me how I should dye my hair a darker shade of red. I have NEVER dyed my hair. I'm terrified to for multiple reasons. I told her this. Then, she says, "Well, you're beautiful just the way you are. Men in England would LOVE you!" Awwww, thanks, adviser lady! What a nice thing to say! I left her office smiling and feeling better than I had all day.
A few hours later, while on the elliptical machine, I replayed the whole scene. Ok, wait. What? I'm beautiful just the way I am. How is that? A chunky red-head with big hips? And, why would men in ENGLAND love me? What about men here? Why do I have to skip countries to find men that would love me? What is it about me that would only attract English men?
Sigh. Why couldn't I have just left it alone? Instead, I did what I always do - I dissected, overanalyzed, and stored it away in the "things I can't believe she said" folder.
Bagaimana Karakteristik Pasir Silika
1 year ago