My Shallow Hal

Mr. Camper was going to pick up his son, leaving me home alone for a bit (ie – I’m in charge of the remote control).  I was buzzing through the channels when I came across Shallow Hal – one of my favorites.

As I watched, I realized the similarities.  Like Rosemary, I know that I’m fat.  I’ve never had hoards of men beating down my door. I know that, while I’m not the most attractive woman on the block, I’m not the ugliest either. I am self-aware and I’m okay with who I am.  Like Rosemary, I’ve worked on deeper personality traits, knowing that I’m not going to catch a man based solely on my looks.

Mr. Camper has some similarities to Hal.  He loves me for who I am, and who I am makes me more beautiful to him, which makes me feel more secure with him and with myself.  He compliments me when I don’t feel I deserve it.  It took me a while to realize the truth of it all.  I’m used to men complimenting me, but usually it’s just so they could get in my pants.  That’s par for the course, right?   How many women haven’t dealt with the dishonesty of men who just want a piece of tail?  Like Rosemary, I believed that Mr. Camper’s flattery wasn’t completely sincere.  I believed that his intent was purer than the average sex-seeking creep, but I still didn’t think it was honest.  I thought maybe he was trying to make me feel better about him or myself or…?

And then I realized what was going on.  He sees me.  Not the outer coating that everyone else sees and rejects, but me – the real me.  The me that matters.  Like Hal, Mr. Camper seems to be blind to my physical flaws.  Just the other day, he accidentally found one that he hadn’t seen before.  It’s on my face – a massive, glaring enlarged pore that has bothered me for years.  In the year we’ve known each other, he’d never even noticed it.  And please don’t think I’m exaggerating the size of my pore – you can feel it, it’s so big.

It seems to go both ways.  There are times that I look at him and… it’s hard to explain – it’s like he doesn’t look like him.  Not that anything is different, but like I normally see a different version of him and it’s almost startling to see his outer shell.  It’s like I see him for who he is, not the way he appears to passersby.  Who he is makes him even sexier to me than his looks alone.  Not that he’s a troll – he’s often compared to Russell Crowe (I think Mr. C is sexier than Mr. Crowe!)

This is how we explain it:


I love knowing that he loves me for the right reasons.  I love knowing that when I’m old(er) and wrinkly(er) he will still love me.  It’s comforting to know that if I were to be horribly disfigured, my inner beauty would still shine through for him.  That gives me a lot of peace and security.

I’m so glad that I get to share this special love with him.


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