Why it Sucks to Be Pretty

Contrary to popular belief, being pretty isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sure, it has its perks (just flash a smile and you generally get what you want), but sometimes I think it's easier to get by in life with average looks.

Before I make myself sound too conceited, I would like to clarify that I was never the pretty, popular girl in school. In fact, I was the exact opposite. I was a mere mouse of a person, with scraggly hair, bad skin, no boobs, and crooked teeth. I was never very interested in cosmetics unless it was a cure-all for my acne. My shy personality was just about as charming as my looks. I didn't go to the movies with a group of friends or watch much television. And of course, my grades were very good; since I had no social life, I studied a lot.

This whole being pretty thing just kind of happened. It wasn't a goal of mine, and I never considered myself pretty or beautiful until a few years ago when I met my husband. In his attempts to woo me, he showered me with compliments. The more he complimented me, the more I believed him and the more beautiful I became. This whole "true beauty comes from within" saying is true. I changed how I thought about myself, and that changed the outside of me.

Now that I'm a knock-out, I'm discovering what a pain it is to be beautiful. I cannot go anywhere without getting stared at, leered at, or commented on. If I'm walking down the street or even just getting the mail from the mailbox, some redneck in a truck will inevitably drive by and whistle or shout at me. I've even tried being outside with my husband, but he's no deterrent. They simply whistle at me and flip him off.