Boys do not like me. I have matched with more boys on Tinder and Bumble than I can count, I get harassed in the streets on a daily basis, and boys ask me out on dates all the time. But boys do not like me. They call me pretty, buy me dinner, and desire to have sex with me, and yet, I can never shake the feeling that boys do not like me. And, honestly, I don't think they do. I am an actress, a model, a singer, and a writer. I even hope to direct one day. Most of that aside, however, my main point in this blog centers around the fact that I am a model and an actress.
Being a model, it is sort of a requirement that I be attractive by modern day standards. And I am. I am beautiful, and I am fairly marketable. I have the long legs, the long blonde hair, and I'm slim. I have eyes that change color, sometimes green, sometimes blue, occasionally grey. My nose is not crooked, I have always been told that I have a beautiful mouth. I have walked into rooms and watched everybody turn to look at me. I am, by all definitions, beautiful. So, why is that every time a boy calls me beautiful, or tells me that I am stunning, it makes me feel more worthless than ever before? Why is it when a boy wants to take me out and buy me dinner, I immediately want to sink into the floor, or become invisible? Some girls would kill to be asked out by the boys I have dated, some would get surgery to have some of the features I naturally have. Some boys would pay to have a girl like me grace their arm, or lie in their beds. Is this not something that I dreamed of as a little girl? I was not an attractive child. I was lanky and weird, and I dreamed of getting the attention I do now. By all means, if you saw my dating history over the past year or so, you'd certainly think that boys like me. But they don't.
Boys like my body. They like my choice of occupation, being able to say "Yeah, bro. She's a model." They like it when I grace their bed, they like using me as a trophy. They like my long blonde hair, good facial structure, and they like that I impress all of their friends with my appearance. They like that i remove my blemishes and unattractive spots with makeup, that I wear clothes that play up my assets. But that's it. They don't want to commit to me, or introduce me to their moms. They want to have sex with me for a couple of months and then drop me so no one really gets attached. I am like a toy that is only good for the first two weeks after Christmas and then sits on the shelf and collects dust for the next few years until it is thrown away or donated to charity. They do not care about my real dreams or ambitions. They do not care that I desire to be loved, not touched. They never really want to be around me for very long because they fear that if they do, I may begin to become unattractive, not only to them, but to their friends, and they lose the cool factor they've had recently.
So, I guess if I'm going to be frank, boys don't like me. I worry they never will. They like the idea of me. They like the dream of being able to bed me whenever they want, and parade me around on their arms, but they don't want to spend any kind of real time with me. They don't want to stay up until one in the morning talking on the phone. They don't want to meet my parents, or do anything special. They want to bang and get out. And, to be quite frank, that is the worst feeling in the world.
I desire relationship. I want to be loved and to love in return. I want someone to pick me up at three in the morning so they can watch the sunrise with me. I want him to meet my dad and I want my dad to like him. I want him to have my mom wrapped around his finger, and I want him to be able to sit and play video games with my brother for hours. I want hime to tell his mom that "She's my girl," and to tell his dad that he thinks that I could really be the one. I want to be worth fighting for and worth fighting with. I want the kissing and the making up, and I want him to be willing to wait to have my body. I want him to fall in love with my crazy cackle and with my sarcastic tendencies. I want to fall in love with the way he smiles and the way that his eyes light up when he looks at something he loves. I desire to be loved, and I need him to be willing to wait to make love. Because so far, that's all boys want from me. But I don't want their bodies. I want their minds, their hearts. I want them. We are more than our bodies. And I want more. No, I need more.