Like any single female approaching 30, I'm all too familiar with how rough the dating scene has become. Especially in New York where I won't even speak the ratio, because, quite frankly, I don't have time to be on suicide watch. Like most ladies in this fine city, there are certain times when you just feel completely beaten up by it all. Sure, those times pass but its easy to get in a funk around here. However, may I suggest its not you, its him - and not in the "its not you, its me" breakup line where every self-respecting individual understands it is, of course, them - but more in the sense that a little perspective and change of scenery can be a powerful thing. Next time you're feeling down, take a vacation (no big deal, I'm sure your boss will get it) and reevaluate.
Traveling to Central or South America, or an island in the Caribbean has made it very clear to me that I am living in the wrong place. This realization does not result from the fact that most of these places resemble paradise, although they do. It is not because the American dollar goes so much further in these countries that I can practically convince myself I’m a millionaire, although that’s a happy consequence as well. The simple truth is that my self esteem is never higher than when I travel abroad. Despite the fact that I only speak about 10 words of Spanish (but at least those words include hello, thank you, water, bathroom and red wine – so, you know, the important ones) and would live in constant fear of the water, I’m certain in some ways I’d be much happier. The sad reality is white guys don’t like curves, or not real curves anyway. (Disclaimer: I realize this is a gross overgeneralization and both stereotypical and quite possibly highly offensive, it's just a blog folks.) Or perhaps this applies mostly to guys in New York, I haven’t fully tested the theory elsewhere. But among the guys I know and observe, it is clear that they prefer a female with the body of a 12 year old to a female with the body of a woman any day. If you’re larger than a size 2 (maybe a 4) you are obese in the eyes of most men and since I contemplated but gave up any and all considerations of a cocaine habit years ago, I’ve been forced to accept the fact that I will never be a size 2 and as a result will never be pursued (or even considered) by the majority of Manhattan's eligible bachelors. Of course, it’s a slight dilemma for men who are taught at an early age to salivate at the mere thought of breasts, but thankfully with the increased popularity of implants a girl can now be both a size 2 and a D cup – hallelujah. I'm not sure who or what exactly is to blame? I could jump on the blame Kate Moss bandwagon (once again showing my age - see the post below), shes been a good scapegoat for girls of my generation. I could blame nature in general - take a psychoanalysis approach and suggest it has something to do with men wanting to be a protector and little things are easier to protect/control. Of course, a few generations ago, curves were in. I was clearly born in the wrong decade (the wrong decade, the wrong continent). Perhaps the men of today have just gotten lazy and can't form opinions beyond what Hollywood informs us is sexy. In fact that sounds about right on many counts (And, I'm pretty sure that will lead to another blog post), but it is more than that. At some point, there was a significant change in what was viewed as desirable. This isn't a revelation or anything even remotely new. We've been aware of this trend since we were kids. I mean please, we started dieting in elementary school (oh wait, was that just me?). So, I'm not claiming to be onto some new, original idea. I'm just noting that this trend seems so American, so New York, so, "pretty fly for a white guy" specific. So what's my point? I'm not sure I ever have one, but I think what I'm saying is - don't give up! Don't feel bad about yourself! Don't you dare let some man make you feel unworthy. (I am woman, hear me roar! or whatever). Instead, just hop on a plane, get the hell out of dodge, and come with me to South America or Mexico - it'll be like Christmas morning. Promise.
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