“You’re the sexiest unsexy person I know. It’s like oh, look at V. She’s wearing that dress well. Oh… look at her now. She’s shoving that taco down her mouth hole.”
“Your boobs were everywhere in the dress you wore to adult prom which was sexy. The next day I watched you drink ranch dressing which was not sexy.”
“This one time you were wearing green pants and stretching your legs. It was sexy because I was able to see your green ass. Then, your back went out. Someone had to sit on you for half an hour while you moaned and I didn’t know if it was pleasure or pain.”
These are direct quotes from 3 male humans in my life. This may surprise you, but I don’t know a God damn thing about feeling sexy. Sure, there have been moments in my life when I’ve just been inherently sexy, obviously, I’ve been told. But the difference between being sexy and feeling sexy is that being sexy generally means that I’m completely unaware of just how sexy I am. And that is something that I’m completely okay with.

“You’re about a 6, I’d say.” “Excuse me? Sir? Did you just rank me on a made up scale of attractiveness according to you?” 

 

In recent history, I can think of only one time that I was actually feelin’ sexy. I was living in St. Louis, MO because I thought that would be a good idea. One particular weekend, we went out at a bar, we actually did this every weekend. But this specific trip became instantly the most memorable because a man who was probably a decade younger than me, came up directly to me and said “You’re about a 6, I’d say.” “Excuse me? Sir? Did you just rank me on a made up scale of attractiveness according to you?” “Yes.” I did not enjoy this ranking because according to my friend, Bob, “a 6, I’d say, is a person you’re not afraid to walk down the street with but you’re not bragging to be like “look what I got.” So, in order to attempt to boost my ranking on this dude’s “rating girls to their faces scale”, I did the obvious. I challenged him to a dance off. Yes, a dance off. A dance off was my choice of battle. Apparently, when I drink alcoholic beverages, I feel sexy enough to dance battle people in hopes of boosting my ranking when they tell me to my face that I’m a “6”.
The most upsetting aspect of this particular evening was that I had even put a little bit of effort into my appearance! Let’s not get crazy, not a lot of effort. But some! My confidence level was a smidge higher than usual and boom, just like that, with the label of a number, I went from someone who was out to have a good time, to a person that was dance battling a child for validation and possibly even acknowledgement for putting in that little bit of effort of showering, washing my face and adding a touch of makeup. I even washed my hair in this particular shower! What would this baby think of me if he saw me on a random Tuesday where I resemble a character on Lost who’s survived a plane crash? I’m definitely not delusional into thinking that I could ever be considered a 9 or 10, I was just hoping to get myself up to the 7 or 8 notch. 8 might even be a stretch. And much like this fetus would not be bragging “look what I got” about me, I would also not be bragging “look what I got” about him.
To be clear, I did not want this sperm guy. I just wanted to boost my St. Louis ranking. To quote my dear friend who lives in St. Louis but is from my hometown of Jacksonville, IL, “I feel like a St. Louis ‘6’ is like a Jacksonville 10. Which makes you an LA ‘3’”. That’s far worse than the initial ranking! I’d take a 6 over a 3 any day! Also, homeboy did not appreciate my dance moves enough to boost my rating. A 6 sounds a hell of a lot better than a 3 so, I remain a 6.
Due to my inability to actually feel sexy, I decided I would Google the exact phrase “ways to feel sexy”. Number one said “Sleep naked”. You will be more confident and feel sexier, it said. I don’t QUITE see how this is possible while I lay in my orthopaedic bed, cuddling with 5 remote controls and snuggling with clean laundry because there’s generally no one there to impress.

 “Sleep naked”. You will be more

confident and feel sexier.

Number two said, “Have a one night stand.” Some people, my mother, tell me I’m a prude. I’m not good at boys and especially being sexually open with strangers. I’m a girl so I’d prefer to have that level of connection with a person before articles of clothing begin to disappear. You may call me delusional, irrational and self conscious. But I’d prefer to think of myself as healthy, normal and self conscious. I’m not saying that I won’t do ANYTHING with randoms but what I am saying is that if I’m going to hook up with a stranger, I’d prefer it be at a poorly lit, cheap booze, creep infested dive bar than in the comfort of my own home with a perfectly capable potential boyfriend that I met through a friend of a friend because I don’t online date. I have my irrational intimacy infested issues for saying such a dramatic statement. First of all, when at said dive bar, the expectations are low as the lights are lit. There’s only so much that a prude can do in a dive. A make out sesh. That’s pretty much it. When I’m in the comfort of my home or yours, the expectation level is raised. Just a make out sesh can get boring so there’s a chance that you might want to take my pants off. Also, my pants may wanna come off. This makes me uncomfortable, leads to regret and forces the word vomit “I’m on my period” in hopes of disgusting the dude so much that he will leave my pants on. This has backfired once when a guy said “Ok? What are you talking about? I wasn’t going to try to do anything.” #awkwardfaceemoticon

I blame the show Girls for making me feel like my life is less cool than theirs because even though we share the same struggles of being unemployed and not knowing what we’re doing with our lives, the amount of random sex they have on that show makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong. I realize that this is something that I could potentially remedy if I wanted to. In fact, I remember a time when a friend told me that I could pick any guy in the room that I wanted to have sex with and with no problem at all, I could have sex with him. Dudes think this is true, ladies know this is false. I’ve been in a room with George Clooney twice and… I’ve never had sex with him.

“Have a one night stand.”

Number three said, “Have a three-some.” Umm, internet, I can’t even get one person to want to try to have sex with me. I can’t even fathom two people trying at the same time! I can barely sexually satisfy myself. One other person is stressful enough! I would recoil and be the girl that now TWO people talk about as “the worst attempted three-some sex they ever tried.” Believe it or not, it’s a lot of pressure to maintain that title! Plus! What are you supposed to do with your hands?!

 “Have a three-some.”

After my extensive Google search, I’m going to continue doing what I’m doing. Like I said before, I’m perfectly fine with being the person that is sexy while being completely unaware. It seems to be working for me! I’ll wear my pyjama jeans to bed, only kiss strangers in public and only troll for one guy at a time. This will allow me to eat those tacos like I’ll never be fed again, drink ranch dressing at my leisure and moan in pain as my back goes out while I’m analyzing all the grey hair coming out of my head. And one thing’s for sure, I’m never gonna worry about trying to feel sexy again because if I put in some effort I’m a small town 10 which literally means nothing. So, I’ll accept that I’m a 6. And LA, your standards are too high, go f*$& yourself.

V.