The most eloquent writers make me marvel at how their art disguises their effort. They trigger a rethinking of old ideas and offer new ones.
But the new words below are those of a woman who wants no part of the admiration and applause that might be produced by writing a memoir. She offers enough of her experience to warn women like her about the nature of love and leaves it at that.
This gifted and accomplished lady (who calls herself H.) tells us who she is and who she was. Even though H. reveals few details of a headline trauma, she persuaded me to understand why she calls her life a tragedy—a tragedy about the absence of love and how that can happen.
Her comment came only recently in response to my 2009 post Beautiful and Smart, But Unlucky in Love: The Reasons Why:
When this article was originally published, I was 47. I was in the midst of the worst year of my life until then, even starving for months on end, and alone, alone, alone in my grief. And yet, I was still so beautiful, still in that girlish sort of way, that 20- and 25-year-old men (literally) sighed when I passed; and I saw their dreamy, bashfully eager eyes. Even in 2016, very young men that had been eyeing me with romantic interest were SHOCKED (again, literally) when they heard my age. (It wasn’t pleasant to experience, I can tell you that: the shock in their eyes, as if I had done something appalling, perhaps as if I were a freak out to get them.)
In the past few years, but especially in the past eleven months, I have lost almost every remnant of my beauty. While I still have my beautiful skin and gorgeous legs – funnily, nobody notices them anymore after they’ve seen my jowls and slightly sagging neck – I suspect I’ve become even slightly grotesque to see. (This is often the lot of beautiful people, strangely enough – but probably not a coincidence.) It matters to me, but not because I were “after” some man. It is too late for that because have no love left to give. (And also, let’s be frank, I have no interest in being a nurse to some old man, not do I wish to be a mother figure – or worse, a fetish – to some youngster.)
Anyway …since this exceptionally fine article (No. 1), especially, is priceless advice,** certainly applicable in my case) is precisely about women who have – or are perceived as having – an overabundance of desirable qualities, it should not be too immodest to mention that I am an extremely thoughtful and kind person, at the very top of my (creative) profession, with many (sadly untapped) talents, speak many languages (English is my fourth), and an IQ the measurements of which have varied throughout my life (for obvious reasons), but the lowest score was cca 170. I used to be great fun, too, witty, adventurous, with stars in my eyes… I was EXPECTING love – great, all-consuming love – to find me (how and why on earth would it give me a miss, right?) – so I never tried to “find” it; I still don’t believe in that approach, anyway.
Well, for some reason, “Love” either lost track of me (yes, we did move a lot when I was a child, but that wasn’t the problem) or just decided that I was, I don’t know… too good for any mortal man? OF COURSE I am joking. But let me tell you something: more than once I’ve heard men – some, not all, drunk (always listen to drunk men) – tell me literally: “You are too good to be true.” Others – not many (I don’t live in a “romantic” society) – have approached me to tell me how 20 years ago they were madly in love with me… (With all due respect: WTF?! You are telling me this NOW – why? Because I am no longer a threat to you, right?)
If a (wo)man tells you you are too good for him/her, or just “too good to be true”- believe them. It means they would always feel inferior to you. (*I* certainly wouldn’t want to be with someone who would feel – let alone BE – inferior to me.)
Anyway, I had ONE “relationship” (and he was married when we met) in my early twenties. He was a physically gorgeous man, but physically and verbally abusive. After that, I only had a few short affairs – and I loved (or even liked) none of them, but wanted to at least experience sex (that happened to be laughable in almost all cases, except the first one). It was as if, deep down, I’d always known – literally from early childhood – that I was never to experience LOVE.
I could go on and on and on… in fact, my life would make quite a puzzling page-turner, but I am not going to write it. Nobody else will, either, because nobody really knows the tragedy that is my life; and “older” women cease to be interesting to those who are still living the high summer of life, anyway.
BOTTOM-LINE: In some cases, there may not only be nothing much wrong with you – it may be that you are perceived as TOO good… at least by men who are afraid to approach (and rightly so, because who wants a wimp?). Who we meet – as friends, as lovers – really is down to dumb luck. You can help your “luck” by moving to a milieu that is at least vast and varied enough for you to offer enough choice. Because there are many, many good, excellent men out there… but in the wrong milieu you may never meet a single one.
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**1. This is the portion of Beautiful and Smart, But Unlucky in Love: The Reasons Why that was referred to by H. in the third paragraph of the quoted text above:
If you came from a home where you were neglected, criticized, or abused, your self-worth is likely to be less than what it should be. Recall Marilyn Monroe: famous, beautiful, and talented, but insecure and unlucky in love. A woman with the background I’ve described often looks for approval from someone who unconsciously reminds her of someone who failed to love her as a child. It is as if the unconscious mind is still looking for the thing never achieved before (love or approval), and it only has value if it comes from a similar person. Since the parent in question was neglectful or critical, the chosen substitute will likely be that way, providing the woman another chance to win loving attention. Given her poor choice of a partner, the sought-after affection and approval are no more likely than they were in childhood.
My response to H.‘s 2024 comment to the 2009 post can be found here: Beautiful and Smart, But Unlucky in Love: The Reasons Why.
It is currently at the bottom of the long list of comments.
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The first photo is called Attractive Beautiful Red-Haired Girl by Jerzy Gorecki. The second is Hedy Lamarr by A.L. Whitey Schaefer. Both are sourced from Wikimedia Commons.
Gerry,This particular blog of your really hit home for many people. Huge of H to share her sad story too! Keep up the gre
Thanks, Jack. It is hard to predict which ones carry a lasting value, but this one has. Take care.
Wow – such a fascinating comment. And so interesting that your article continues to draw such great dialogue 15 years after it was published. Of course you make so many wise points born from expertise, but it’s also a topic that people are puzzling over. Thanks for sharing it again — and H’s response!
Thank you, Wynne. In this one the plaudits go to H. A brave women, generous enough to tell her story. Be well.
I’ll second Wynne’s ‘wow’. Wow! What a layered, detailed and insightful response. H’s reference to her life as a ‘puzzling page turner’ struck me as an epiphany. Often we need a someone to lead us to those moments and clearly you did that for her. Thank you for sharing, dear Dr. Stein. 💕
Thank you, Vicki. I couldn’t stop thinking about the anonymous H.- her eloquence and story. There is nothing I can add to it except to underline the randomness of some things in life. As Beth noted, the rawness of H.’s account has rarely come my way in the manner this comment did. It is a desperately sad work of art.
I can see why H’s comment stuck with you. Eloquent and sad, indeed. ❤️
Thanks, Vicki.
H was so honest and raw in her response, and it’s clear she had thought about this for a long time and wanted to share her trajectory to where she is now
Many thanks, Beth. The word “raw” didn’t come to mind until you wrote it, but it is an essential part of the description of her response to my blog post. You have added a great deal with that single word. Again, thank you.
I used to be beautiful, at least in the sense that men would cross a street to strike up a conversation, to try to impress me and ask me for a date. I have become mostly invisible to men now. I’m 62, I look much younger, but I no longer look YOUNG, and therefore inexperienced with men. I’ve now observed that many men go for the young women because they know they haven’t been hurt and damaged by other men. I’ve seen the overt disgust many men have for older women who are now wise, because we see through them. We see the red flags now that previously were invisible, or at least dismissed.
I’m still hoping to meet a wonderful man, but my filters are high. I swipe no on any man with facial hair, not because I don’t like it, but because my skin is too sensitive to handle it rubbing against my skin, and I won’t ask a man to change something he has adopted as his signature look. I also swipe no on men who have pets, due to my allergies, and I won’t expect him to get rid of his beloved pets for me. I swipe no on red politics or gun vibes, because they don’t fit with who I am. I swipe no on anyone who says they’re Christian, not because I dislike the religion, but I have seen that most people who are professing to be so are also very conservative and rigid in their beliefs and want a “traditional” woman, and I don’t fit that mold.
Am I eliminating a lot of good men? Probably. However, I have come to respect who I am, and offer respect to any man in my life, so saying no is sometimes the most respectful thing to do for both people. I won’t “take a chance” on someone and then expect them to change something fundamental to who they are.
When we get older, we do learn about who we are, and many men know they can’t manipulate or gaslight a woman into accepting poor behavior on their part, so they continue to seek the inexperienced girls.
Will I find love? Chances are slim, but there’s still a chance!
Your hard earned wisdom shines through your words, Tamara. So does your beauty. As you say, you know yourself. Here’s hoping you find love. It does remain possible and the man who loves and “sees” you will be a lucky fellow.
Dr. Stein, thanks for sharing H’s dilemma. I’ve observed over the years that one’s beauty and intelligence offer no guarantee to a happy union.
Agreed, Rosaliene. For myself, I was floored by H.’s literary gifts and the power of her account–the rawness Beth identified. I hope her story will provide some solace to those who remain in mourning over the absence of love.