Just Looking

When it comes to physical beauty, I don't mind people liking what they like and saying so. For much of my life, I was in situations where I couldn't acknowledge my attractions. When I was a teenager, I couldn't tell anyone about those feelings even though they were overwhelming. Often nearly every minute of every day. And I couldn't say a word. It was maddening.

What I don’t like is when people put down others based on what they look like, make nasty or harsh comments about someone being supposedly “too thin” or “too fat” or “too” something else. Another thing that bothers me is when people tell me my taste is wrong. Many aren’t content with telling you about their taste, they have to tell you their taste is better than yours. They seem to suggest that their ideal is what a man is supposed to look like, and if you don’t share their opinion, you don’t know nothin’ ‘bout nothin’.

But as far as people telling me about what they like, I understand the need for that. There is a tendency to overestimate the value of physical beauty, but many of those who attempt to correct this tend to go overboard and undervalue it. Beauty isn’t everything, but it is something, and that something is important.

I had an aunt who lost the sight in one of her eyes when she had a stroke. She was about sixty when that happened. Then a few years later, she fell one morning while getting out of bed and hit her other eye on the corner of the dresser. She lost the vision in that eye, too, so she was completely blind. It was extremely difficult for her to adapt, but with help, she did get by. She went on with her life. She ate, went to the bathroom, took showers, got dressed, slept, visited with people, listened to music and audio books, took trips, went to the store, talked on the telephone… Her life was full. She just couldn’t see, and that haunted her. Sometimes she could hardly stand it. She was able to do nearly everything she did before going blind, but still she ached to be able to see again until the day she died.

I like the way some men look, and I’m going to go on looking, and I’m going to tell my friends about it when they’ll listen. I appreciate them putting up with me, and I hope they know that if I seem to be obsessed, it’s only because I’ve had to hide that part of my life way too much, and I’m trying to catch up. Now that I can, I’m going to celebrate my eyes and what seeing certain guys does for me for as long as I can. I can be noble and pretend it doesn’t matter when I’m dead.