Pretty Ugly

An Honest, Slightly Gross Love Letter

I say, “girls are weird” with love.

I’m really hoping this list doesn’t out me as the biggest weirdo of them all – and it’s actually relatable. But, if it’s not… I guess cat’s out of the bag. I might be the weirdest one of all.

Warning: This list contains some kinda gross stuff towards the end.

We get emotionally attached to random things and people.

I’ve got, at minimum, a dozen things I don’t actually need, or even want, but I can’t get rid of.

The shirt in my closet I haven’t worn in a decade? The one a 41-year old woman has no business wearing? I have no logical reason to keep it. Yet here we are. Together. Against my will.

We don’t want advice – even if we ask for it.

Even if we seem like we’re on the fence, we’re not. Validation is what we’re after. What happens after the advice is given has already been decided.

But thank you for your time.

We ignore pain until it’s dramatic, and then suddenly it’s an emergency.

Sure, men are tough. But women are durable. We have things to do, schedules to keep, and people depending on us. A headache? Annoying. A backache? Inconvenient. A suspicious twinge? Probably fine.

We’ll power through until our body absolutely forces a meeting. And even then, we’ll apologize for needing help.

We trust vibes more than facts.

And we’re usually right. It’s some voodoo we’re born with…probably grows in our ovaries or something.

We rehearse arguments we’re never going to have.

I’ve already won the fight you don’t even know we’re in. Harsh things were said. You didn’t take it well. Hypothetically, that means you take the L.

We dress for an imaginary version of ourselves.

These jeans are for the version of me who has plans, is confident, and leaves the house for social activities. This dress is for tan, skinny me. This shirt will look great when I get that boob job. You get it.

We laugh while actively dissociating.

Lol. (I am not okay).

Warning: Here comes the ick.

We absolutely pull loose hair out of our butt crack in the shower.

And stick it on the wall. Like a little wet shrine to bad decisions. We’ll “get it later.”

But does later ever come? No. Not until someone else uses the shower and is sufficiently horrified.

We remove hair from places hair should not exist.

Chin. Toe. Boob. This happens more as we get older, and we rarely discuss it with anyone – even our friends.

I recently noticed a hair a good half-inch long growing out of my titty, and this is the first time I’m telling anyone.

What we do when we don’t have a tampon handy.

Suddenly we’re inventing solutions, walking carefully, and questioning every life choice that led us here. That moment you’re waddling out of the bathroom, trusting toilet paper with your dignity for longer than you should.

Keeping on about toilet paper – we’ve all checked it for information we did not want.

That quick glace that tells you everything you need to know. No thoughts, just action. Nothing humbles you faster than realizing your body is doing something it did not warn you about.

No email. No call. Just consequences.

In conclusion:

If this made you uncomfortable, congratulations – you read it correctly.

Anyway, women are fine.

If you’ve read this and found yourself nodding along, welcome. If not, this wasn’t for you. And just to be clear- this isn’t a cry for help.

It’s just shared experiences and mutual understanding.