Wednesday = karaoke night. Karaoke, or at least singing, provides me with a catharsis that is unparalleled in other mediums, except perhaps dance or skating. So naturally, after being at home all day on my day off with my car in the shop, I wanted to go to karaoke and release a little tension. In past posts, I may or may not have alluded to my mating crisis, which has resulted in my habitual use of a cosmetic mask and wearing heels. Today, I decided to reach into a purer, more ascetic self, and take a subtle approach to my dress for karaoke night. As I looked in the mirror, I felt incomplete with my makeup on. And I was horrified. I have never in my life felt as though I needed makeup to look "beautiful," yet tonight, feeling so inadequate, I compulsively brushed mascara onto my eyelashes before leaving my apartment because I needed something on my face in order for me to depart. How have I come to feel this way?
Clearly, this sense of inadequacy is problematic. I pride myself on a certain liberal level of asceticism in my life. I crave the purity of uninfluenced humanity, yet I am subject to the "laws" of American society, specifically middle class, suburban white culture. Being of mixed racial decent, I have always felt a cultural disconnect with my peers - I've never been Hispanic enough, nor white enough. Couple this cultural barrier with the interpersonal barrier I've always felt with my peers that has yet to be identified, and you've got one seriously isolated lady. Of course, as social animals, we all seek to be connected with our peers on several levels - utility, friendship, love - all of which I tend to have difficulty acquiring/sustaining. Perhaps the blaring messages I've been raised with within my own family, and of course, in this overbearingly patriarchal society, have caused me to harp specifically on the love/sex category of relationships, so far as to the point where I derive a significant portion of my self-esteem from my ability to mate.
As anyone who knows me will attest, I am the least potent sexual agent I know (for several reasons which I won't get into now). Despite my self-professed reluctance to even allow myself to get into love/sex relationships, I still seek the approval of heterosexual males. This reality is unfortunate because my professional situation will forever entrap me in the cultural demographic in which I currently reside and in which I am repeatedly rejected by males. I do not fit the bill of "attractiveness" for these people. I suppose I value my ability to mate because it predicts the degree to which I can procreate, a quality which for whatever reason I apparently value significantly - the only way in which my life will be truly meaningful is if I propagate the species (even though I don't understand/support the perpetual propagation of an existence whose meaning I can never grasp).
Call me the victim of covert and overt patriarchy because I equate my self-worth to my ability to have babies. In the most basic biological sense, that is my only worth. I feel this so strongly that all "redeeming" qualities about me - generosity, compassion, limitless caring for others - seem irrelevant. I frequently ask myself, what does any of my personality matter if I can't even get a man to look at me to learn about it? I find myself resigned to the reality that I will never attract more than a fleeting intoxicated attraction of a man. Superficially, one would think this would fulfill the requirement of my self-efficacy; however, the distorted perception of hormone-driven men does not faze me. Deep down, I want to be valued for my entire self and not be treated as a Rent-a-Vag. My ultimate problem, it would appear, is my locus of control - it's external. If self-validation actually came from myself, maybe I wouldn't have this problem; however, unfortunately, as a social animal, some portion of my self-worth derives from others' opinions of me. Ostensibly, I find myself to possess excellent qualities, but my apparent unattractiveness to men really deters me and prevents them from learning who I am.
A friend of mine frequently tells me my problem is that I seek social interaction in all the wrong places, namely the bars of suburban white America, and recommends I expand my socialization to more diverse venues. Maybe she's right. Maybe varying location would result in different responses - but to some degree, I can't help but question the steadfast nature of humanity despite cultural differences. I guess only trial would reveal the answer to this question.
Ultimately, I experience difficulty reconciling my own proclivity to embrace others independent of demographics or physical attributes with others' rejection of me based on physical attributes. To overcompensate, I've adopted a method of dress/personal grooming to mimic those around me, in hopes that would increase my odds. It hasn't worked and yet I clutch to colored powder as though my life depends on it. I abhor this self I have become. I have never been and never want to be this automaton of superficiality. I suppose the next step for me is to attempt to change my environment and trial that option. We'll see if I'll have more success.
-M.E.
Clearly, this sense of inadequacy is problematic. I pride myself on a certain liberal level of asceticism in my life. I crave the purity of uninfluenced humanity, yet I am subject to the "laws" of American society, specifically middle class, suburban white culture. Being of mixed racial decent, I have always felt a cultural disconnect with my peers - I've never been Hispanic enough, nor white enough. Couple this cultural barrier with the interpersonal barrier I've always felt with my peers that has yet to be identified, and you've got one seriously isolated lady. Of course, as social animals, we all seek to be connected with our peers on several levels - utility, friendship, love - all of which I tend to have difficulty acquiring/sustaining. Perhaps the blaring messages I've been raised with within my own family, and of course, in this overbearingly patriarchal society, have caused me to harp specifically on the love/sex category of relationships, so far as to the point where I derive a significant portion of my self-esteem from my ability to mate.
As anyone who knows me will attest, I am the least potent sexual agent I know (for several reasons which I won't get into now). Despite my self-professed reluctance to even allow myself to get into love/sex relationships, I still seek the approval of heterosexual males. This reality is unfortunate because my professional situation will forever entrap me in the cultural demographic in which I currently reside and in which I am repeatedly rejected by males. I do not fit the bill of "attractiveness" for these people. I suppose I value my ability to mate because it predicts the degree to which I can procreate, a quality which for whatever reason I apparently value significantly - the only way in which my life will be truly meaningful is if I propagate the species (even though I don't understand/support the perpetual propagation of an existence whose meaning I can never grasp).
Call me the victim of covert and overt patriarchy because I equate my self-worth to my ability to have babies. In the most basic biological sense, that is my only worth. I feel this so strongly that all "redeeming" qualities about me - generosity, compassion, limitless caring for others - seem irrelevant. I frequently ask myself, what does any of my personality matter if I can't even get a man to look at me to learn about it? I find myself resigned to the reality that I will never attract more than a fleeting intoxicated attraction of a man. Superficially, one would think this would fulfill the requirement of my self-efficacy; however, the distorted perception of hormone-driven men does not faze me. Deep down, I want to be valued for my entire self and not be treated as a Rent-a-Vag. My ultimate problem, it would appear, is my locus of control - it's external. If self-validation actually came from myself, maybe I wouldn't have this problem; however, unfortunately, as a social animal, some portion of my self-worth derives from others' opinions of me. Ostensibly, I find myself to possess excellent qualities, but my apparent unattractiveness to men really deters me and prevents them from learning who I am.
A friend of mine frequently tells me my problem is that I seek social interaction in all the wrong places, namely the bars of suburban white America, and recommends I expand my socialization to more diverse venues. Maybe she's right. Maybe varying location would result in different responses - but to some degree, I can't help but question the steadfast nature of humanity despite cultural differences. I guess only trial would reveal the answer to this question.
Ultimately, I experience difficulty reconciling my own proclivity to embrace others independent of demographics or physical attributes with others' rejection of me based on physical attributes. To overcompensate, I've adopted a method of dress/personal grooming to mimic those around me, in hopes that would increase my odds. It hasn't worked and yet I clutch to colored powder as though my life depends on it. I abhor this self I have become. I have never been and never want to be this automaton of superficiality. I suppose the next step for me is to attempt to change my environment and trial that option. We'll see if I'll have more success.
-M.E.
I don't think you're being rejected on physical attributes. I would venture it is for two reasons: you expect to be rejected and therefore project that negative vulnerability that people take advantage of and you don't have high expectations for a partner. It's a zero-sum game: you have to expect more first so that he can't expect anything and accepts and loves you as you are.
ReplyDeleteAnd, baby, you are absolutely fantastic.
Much love.