Confessions of the not so fabulous

The hardest thing about living in Southern California, particularly Central Orange County is living amongst the beautiful and rich people.  It is said this is where pageant & prom queens come home to die. At the very least it is where they come home to defy the inevitable aging that besets us all.  What's a nip here, a tuck there & a shot of botox just for fun? I mean who cares if your lips look like a Macy's Thanksgiving day parade balloon and you can't move your face? You are beautiful dahling.  If you think I am off base - google South Coast Plaza or Fashion Island.  Last time I checked - Fairfield Commons didn't have a Neiman Marcus or a Louboutin boutique. When was the last time you carried a $5000 purse - what -  you mean you don't have a Birkin - really? Your workout gear does consist of a cashmere sweater right?  No lie - I know a lady who showed up at a gym wearing pink one ready to work out with her hottie personal trainer.

The problem is - I have image issues.  I have run the gammit in size out here.  I have weight 97 pounds and wore a kids size 12 at 29 and I am now a much curvier (also read heavier) version of myself.  The person in my head is not who I see in my reflection. I have lived my life thinking I am not pretty enough, smart enough or popular enough because that is all I have ever been told.  I don't know the last time told me I was beautiful or smart or funny.  I was told my hair was cute by a guy last week - but his credibilty was shot as soon as he started snoring.  Looks aren't everything, but in the end - I know that's a lie because I judge just as harshly. I am sure I have been messaged by some perfectly amazing guys who never made it past the picture viewing. I am sure the same has been done with my messages.  We all think we can get better than what we really are. Who wants to ride in a Corolla when you drive a Ferrari?

In the end - I am a big dork. I may talk a great game, but I can't back it up. I can email you & text you & have you dying for more...until you have to meet me face to face. You know those vivacious big gals that just own it?  That ain't me! Somewhere I lost my swagger despite my fabulous hair.  I have never really had the ability to date.  The thought makes me nauseated.  Case in point.  A guy I knew was like my best friend.  We did everything together & were both very attracted to each other.  We were just never single at the same time. He watched me date his frat brothers & I watched him date all the wrong girls.  The one time we were mutually single - went went on a "date".  I was nervous, awkward & it was SO uncomfortable despite the fact that I had hung out with him constantly in the past. Never mind the fact that I had gone to movies & dinner with him on a regular basis- the date screwed it all up.  In the end he married someone else who was jealous of me & I wasn't invited to the wedding.  She also made him throw out the couch when she found out I had sex on it with his best man...whoops.

So I am trying to learn to love the skin I am in and come to terms with the fact that I am not the 25 year old diva I used to be. I am a 41 year old who loves her PS3, played way more World of Warcraft that she will ever admit to & is obessed with lipgloss. I know the men are not falling at my feet like the boys used to do.  I just hope when I find the one who can get past my dork shell - he can remember my name!