Not pretty enough

I went to see I Feel Pretty yesterday with the youngest.

Yeah, I dunno whether that’s poor parenting … probably. But she was mad keen.

Sitting there as the final credits rolled, we both agreed it wasn’t as funny as we were expecting. It was kinda good, but not great.

I’ve since read lots of mediocre reviews, along with articles alleging it’s “fat shaming” women.

I don’t have a problem with the general premise of the movie – an insecure woman knocks herself out in a gym accident, wakes up and suddenly has the confidence to follow her dreams.

But I thought it was really sad that the lead character – played by comedian Amy Schumer – cried pre-accident when she looked at herself in the mirror.

How awful!

I am no more or less “pretty” than Amy. I’ve sometimes wished for a smaller nose, a flatter stomach, a tighter jawline … but I’ve never cried about it.

And I haven’t expected my looks to play any part in my success.

I Feel Pretty reminded me that’s a really positive thing.

During interactions, I wasn’t bothered by whether people thought I was “hot” to look at … but I’ve always loved it when they think it’s “hot” to talk to me.

Not because I’m being flirty or discussing rocket science, simply that they’ve enjoyed the exchange.

And that means I’m not as freaked out by ageing as I thought I would be. Although I was a bit scared about dating again in my late 40s. Funnily enough, my new relationship was born from mental than physical attraction.

My first meeting with DD only lasted an hour and we walked away without a definitive first impression of each other. We fell madly ” in like” over the next few weeks as we texted across the Pacific Ocean like crazed fiends.

Almost four years later, there’s a part of me that would love to be younger and thinner for him, but I know that worrying about whether I’m still sexy after the big 5-0 is completely unsexy.

There’s so much talk about older women feeling “invisible” in society. I’ve found it freeing to be even less bothered by how I’m visually perceived. I wander along the beach in my cossie, I strike up conversations with strangers, I dance extravagantly at parties … totally unconcerned about whether I’m pretty enough.

A different sort of confidence grows, knowing that real beauty lies in your smile, your laughter, your energy and your joy.

And that someone who judges you on how you look is the last person you should care about impressing.

Song of the day: Kasey Chambers “Not pretty enough”