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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