Thursday, July 11, 2013
Guest Blog: Vicki Batman: Isn't He Romantic? or Is He Telling a Little White Lie?
It took a week to really get over my illness, to feel like my energy level had returned. And to look like myself, too.
So a few days later, when Handsome emailed me, asking me to go somewhere with him over lunch, I replied sure, but I wasn't all dolled up. He said, "You are always BEAUTIFUL." ( Notice the caps? He did that! Really!!)
When I looked in the mirror, I was not seeing it, especially after being sick. That got me to thinking, was he just being a great hubby and saying nice things? And if so, was he telling a little white lie? And would I want to be lied to?
Question 1: Was he just being a great hubby and saying nice things? Yeah, he was. And I adore him for that. It's romantic. I always smile and laugh and do feel beautiful.
Question 2: Was he telling a little white lie? He said he wasn't and was very emphatic after I checked. Maybe that was the whole "seeing the inner person" thingy. Okay, fine, I can live with this. Lol
Question 3: Would I want to be lied to? In this case, why not? If I felt better afterwards, works for me. However, I would never want to be lied to about Very Important Stuff. (And I wouldn't want to be lied to if the stain on my chest emphasized my bosom in a gross way.)
This speaks to the man/woman item about how we are attracted to the opposite sex's appearance initially, but what's inside them is what matters. Handsome dismissed the small outer beauty stuff and focused on the larger inner beauty me. It was sweet.
And when we write, we need to be sure our characters are true to real people's values. Some will lie to get their agenda. Others will be truthful. Some will only be attracted to outward appearances. Others will delve into real beauty.
So sigh, I fell for Handsome all over again. Like the great Rogers/Hart song goes, "Isn't he romantic?"
Here's an excerpt from "San Diego or Bust":
My boyfriend is a dirt wad. I just decided.
With a humpf, I dragged my pink tote up the narrow aisle to the plane's exit, accidentally banging it into the seats along the way. The relieving notion of being back home in Sommerville caused the tension in my chest to fade a smidgen.
A quick peek to the exit told me where Davis, my boyfriend, stood waiting for the okay from the ground crew to head out. His glance my way didn't look at all pleasant. Similar to one wrapped in disappointment with a downward tilt of his mouth.
I didn't care much. I just decided.
The words creep, jerk, moron, and “why in the hell am I still dating him??” jumbled my thoughts around. My heart pounded as anxiety ratcheted inside me again.
Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should not put up with him anymore.
The deepest part of me knew I shouldn’t be with Davis Griffith Swansea, III any longer. I was just in denial. Over the past year, I’d had brief, momentary twinges of dumping him; then, he’d go and do something incredibly romantic like bring me Godiva chocolates—“I know how you love these.” Or buy me a new book by my favorite author—“I happened to see this today.” Or whisk me off to an intimate dinner à deux at the latest and greatest bistro--"I know you'll like this place."
My head had gone stupid.
Are little white lies harmful or okay? Does your beloved say you're beautiful even when you think you aren't?
Posted by Marianne Stephens at 12:01 AM