In which Frump Girl pretends to be a Hottie

My husband stares at me a lot. I will be sitting there watching TV and all of a sudden, I realize he isn’t facing the television. He is facing me. He will sit there and just watch me watching TV. When I notice this I’ll say “You’re staring at me again” and he’ll say something like “Does that bother you?” I want to say “Yes! Knock it off! You’re making me self-conscious!” but really, why do I care if he listens to the TV and stares at me. Why do I care? I don’t know why, but I do. I do care.

He has done this as long as I can remember. Every time I see him staring at me I mention it and he shrugs and says something to the effect of “I just like looking at beautiful things”. This should be heartwarming. I know. I believe that HE thinks that I am beautiful. I do not believe this myself. It is just not in my genetic make up to be a “hottie”.

This is a new trend. Ever since we have been on this weight loss thing, he has taken to calling me “HOT!” I told him he seems more interested now that I have lost so much weight and he has reassured me that it is the fact that we have more energy for sex now than we had before we started exercising. This is true; exercise is great for improving your sex life. This however does not explain why he didn’t call me hot BEFORE I lost 34 pounds.

Some people would argue my hotness with me. “Blue,” they would say, “You are tall, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. You have proportionately large breasts and your weighty bulges are morphing into sleek curves. You, my friend, are a hottie!” This makes me uncomfortable. This makes me feel like more people will pay attention to me. T said that he has seen people in the store, at the gym, wherever…looking at me. I have not seen this. He is not the jealous husband type. I think he is actually proud that people might glance at me twice but he gets to go home with me. He knows that I don’t even notice these glances. I really don’t.

I don’t disbelieve him. I just don’t understand the whole concept. He is the most honest person I know, brutally so at times. I do not believe for a minute that he would lie to me. I just don’t see what he sees.

Apparently, I have neglected to show proper appreciation for his physical transformations as well. He has paced me in this weight loss. He also started using hair clippers to tame his gorilla-esque body hair. He looks good, he feels good and I have not complimented him on these things. That bothers him. He is upset that I don’t initiate sex unless I am ovulating. It is not that I find him unattractive or undesirable. I do desire him, but no more now than before he lost the weight. He speaks of his former self as a “fat ass”. I never saw him that way. I never saw him as overweight. True, he has shed a whole set of spare tires in the last 6 months. I have seen this change in him, but I never really saw him as a fat person before so I guess I didn't mention how much better he looks now.

How do I see myself? As Frump Girl. You know, from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. They are having dinner on their first date and he has just realized she is the same girl he saw at the restaurant. She says that she had been going through a stage…up until now. She had been Frump Girl. He says, “I don’t remember Frump Girl, but I remember you.” Awww, I want to cry. I think this is what T means when he stares at me (which he did even when I was at my heaviest). He loves me for who I am on the inside; it has nothing to do with how I look. However, he likes the way I look too. He likes pointing me out as his wife. I think he is proud to be with me. I guess I haven’t mentioned his weight loss because his looks don’t matter to me. He is attractive, he shaves his head, has a large goatee and has the most penetrating hazel eyes that look bright green if he wears a green shirt (but he won’t, he is one of those only-wears-black type of people). I am attracted to him. So why haven’t I told him that? What the Hell is wrong with me that I would take my loving thoughtful and adoring man for granted?

I am now trying to do two things. I am trying to shed myself of my Frump Girl self-image and I am also trying to become more outgoing, at least where T is involved. I have a plan for the former, I am at a complete loss with the latter since anything that I force myself to say or do will come out phony sounding and he will think I am only doing it because he complained that I didn’t. On the other hand, practice makes perfect and maybe after a few kind words here or there or an instance of jumping his bones when he wasn’t expecting it things would start to seem more natural for both of us.

The plan for the Frump Girl eviction is working on embracing my feminine side. I grew up a tomboy. I wear jeans and T-shirts. Not those cute fitted T-shirts they have now, but regular old T-shirts, with stuff printed on them promoting various sports teams, NASCAR drivers, places we have visited or charity walks in which I have participated. Not exactly stunning attire. I wear big sloppy clothes because they hide my body. I am not a very show-offy kind of dresser. I am hoping that by buying some more form fitting clothes I will gain the confidence to appreciate the way I look now. I still have another 12-20 pounds to go, but it is a start. I also have ordered some cosmetics (from a party where the sales woman is trying to earn a pink car) and hope that by brightening up my features a bit I might see them as worthy of those second glances. You never know, it might work.

It is easy to look myself in the mirror and say that I need to raise my self-esteem. It is quite another thing to actually do it.