Beauty is as beauty does: on life as somebody who is (almost) never the object of desire

Even in my youth, I was plain, perhaps pretty for a year or two in my early twenties and maybe again a little elegant during a stretch of good months in my thirties, but being beautiful has always been beyond me. If people find me so, it’s only after they’ve come to know me. I have never turned heads. I minded this quite a lot in my teens, when it seemed that only beautiful people mattered, that it was a prerequisite for a good life. But it isn’t, and it didn’t take too many years out in the world to realize that it’s more important to be interesting than beautiful, and interesting is something I can manage. [link]

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