Dating : What Does It Feel Like Being An Extraordinary Beautiful Women?

Let me start by saying that everyone is beautiful. Those who are wise realize that beauty is on the inside. Many of us who’ve experienced romantic setbacks have done so by first being serenaded by the siren song of beauty. This goes for both men and women.

Most young men and women fall into the categories of attractive or good looking. These people are a pleasure to the eyes; individual natural resourses; human gifts to other humans.

To be truly beautiful is rare in a man but almost impossible for a woman. Society for ages has set the standards of beauty far lower for men than for women. It’s possible for a man to be handsome with a bump on the nose, a wrinkle or two, a scar — that’s known as character.

To be beautiful as a woman, you have to be — perfect.

After graduating from college, I moved to Philadelphia. I taught 6th grade in the school system. Like many, I got caught up in the young professional social whirl. Not unusual for those of us at that age. Young people looking for a mate with whom to share the nights. Or, hitting the jackpot, someone to travel with close to forever. If fortunately blessed, children may enter the equation along the journey.

It was a Saturday night and my friend Ansel had gotten wind of a party given by a couple of guys we knew from the gym.

Ansel was probably the smartest person I ever knew. Although incredibly intelligent, that trait was not the overriding difference that set Ansel apart from his fellow humans. It was the odd bent he had to his thinking: unique, brilliant, impulsive, expressive, delightful. Did I mention, he was an attorney?

He was far from handsome, fell short of even being physically attractive.

Women love him.

The men were the fist to arrive at the party. It was 9:00PM and the women were slowly making their delayed entrances.

The front door of the apartment opened. A burst of brilliance stood framed by the opening. There stood the single most unequivocally beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Conversation stopped. All the men and the few women that had arrived — stared — everyone was speachless.

She paused before she advanced into the living room (the party room). Still no conversation, lots of lumps in throats, stares. True beauty often tongue ties men until the chemicals and the thinking returns to normalcy.

True beauty is so rare.

The species finds it bewildering.

Ansel glanced at the woman in the door. The one that the had the beauty that could stop conversation. If it she was able to be viewed universally, she’d stop the world. Ansel leaped up and did what every man’s instinct was telling him to do but his socialization held him back.

Ansel hustled on over to the beautiful new arrival stopping about a foot in front of her. Ansel threw himself on his knees clasping his hands as one would do if one were praying in church and implored “CHOOSE ME! CHOOSE ME! PLEEEASE CHOOSE ME!

Every guy in the room had that feeling but was miles away from acting it out.

The beauty was horrified, of course.

Because of Ansel’s aggressive demonstration of his attraction to the beauty — she left the party before she arrived.

Ansel returned the party to normal. No one felt compelled to compete for the beauty.

Everyone agreed; it was one of the best parties of the season.