White Picket Fence Dreams

“Well you know it’s what’s on the inside that counts,” said the old woman.

This is why she never talked about her looks, her dreams, or her love life. She wasn’t attractive and she knew it. She just hated how other people tried to hide it from her as if it were a secret. It wasn’t a secret, it was written clear as day across her face. Her big bulbous nose, small eyes, and gummy smile made her hard to look at. Even after losing the weight, she had to accept that she could never be beautiful. It did hurt sometimes: not getting a call back after going on a date, being invisible among her group of friends, and being asked to take the photo instead of being in it. Yeah, it hurt, but she had grown to accept it.

“It’s okay ma’am, I’m comfortable in my own skin,” she lied. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. She was comfortable enough in her skin. She had abandoned dating and didn’t go out much anymore due to her busy work schedule. Some days she could get through the entire day without feeling ugly. Some days she even felt good enough to take a photo of herself with a filter on. Of course, the next day she would have to delete said pictures, but for a moment she allowed herself to feel almost pretty.

“Well I suppose that’s good,” said the old woman, “you are a career woman, after all, your looks don’t matter too much.” To that, she didn’t know what to say. Yes, she was a career woman, but to say her looks didn’t matter there was a complete lie. She had to work so much harder than her pretty colleagues just to be seen. Interacting with the opposite sex had always been a struggle. They always either looked down on her or saw straight through her. It didn’t help that her boss was probably the most misogynistic man she had ever met. She was lucky that she didn’t have to deal with his harassment, but his words still hurt. ‘Oh Kyra dear, I hope you put more effort into those reports than you did into your makeup’. ‘At least I don’t have to worry about my dear Kyra leaving me for a husband, lord knows no one would have her’. Despite how much she hated him, she had to admit he was right. She just wasn’t cut out for that life. One that involved respect, friends, love, marriage, and a family.

“Yeah, I am a career woman. I don’t even want to think about marriage and the alternative. My focus right now is on my job,” she told the old woman who in return gave her an approving smile. The last thing she needed was people knowing about her white picket fence dreams that could never be.