Pretty.

I hate the way that to guys I am only pretty. Yes for much of my high school, okay all of high school, I just wanted to be noticed for a second. Back then, no matter how conceited this is, I had a perfect body. 5'3", 110 pounds, abs, a good butt and yes a-cup breasts, but that's pretty damn good if you ask me. I still have a good body but not as perfect, and I'm okay with that, my future mate is gonna have to accept a lot worse things than that.
As usual, I had the whole boy with a girlfriend story rerun itself and when we got into a fight over how he should stay with his girlfriend because I am just a flat image to him, he proved me right. Never mind that this fight was over text messages during my mid-crit in design, which is when you get demoralized in front of your class or glorified. He asked, "I'm sorry, am I making you upset?" and I rudely responded, "I'm sure god could have meant for this to be a bad day with or with out you." (In truth it would have been a good day, I was glorified in my crit and nothing else really happened that would affect me, except for him.) And his reply still makes me angry now, "Smile, your pretty." "I'M PRETTY?!?! JUST PRETTY?!!? THERE IS NOTHING ELSE GOOD ABOUT ME?!?! So the next time I come over should I just smile and let you stare at me?" Not quite as catchy as, "Smile, your on candid camera!"
It fueled me through practice that day and it fuels me now. Well on that final crit, I did great. My professor requested that I fix some little details on my drawings and such so my project can be turned into the head of interior design. From there, they have a professional photographer take pictures of my project and put it on the School of Architecture website for my school. I've always wanted a guy to say to me, "You are so good at what you do and I am proud of you." And watch the family feminism enter the scene, everyone is looking for the trophy wife and not the sucessful one.