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“But you see, Valerie, to you it’s not just an important thing to you that women ought to look sexy: it’s the MOST important thing.”
“It’s the most important thing...” you methodically repeat. “That women look sexy.” You almost laugh as you say such a...true statement. Your beauty has always been priority number one, and you’ve wholeheartedly felt that fact should apply to other women. If only some of them put in the effort, they would be so, so much more beautiful. As you ponder what could have been with other women, your hair turns a bright blonde and grows longer, and your boobs get a bit larger.
“Sexiness determines a woman’s worth.”
“I think...sexiness... determines...a woman’s worth...” you say rather calmly. It’s...well...true to you, just as it should be true to everyone. Looks and worth are essentially one in the same when it comes to women. You know your worth, and you know you are worth a whole lot, given how incredible you always look, working, at home, or out. If women tried harder, they would be worth more, plain and simple. You never understood why Diana failed to value her appearance as much as you. That’s why you broke up. Looking sexy is the most important thing.
“And your sexiness especially determines YOUR worth.”
“My...my s-sexiness...” you say slowly, savoring the word. It’s like you are discovering that fact all over again. You knew your sexiness determined your worth just as it did other women, but you always knew you held yourself to a higher standard. Your mother was so beautiful, and she told you to emulate her, and you did. You feel so liberated and confident knowing you are an absolute knockout, even more than she was. That’s why you dyed your hair and got a boob job. That’s why you always wear makeup. That’s why you the instant you came home from work you put on a fabulous red dress and heels, because when you hit the town tonight you want to be so gorgeous that nobody can look away. Beauty is everything to you; beauty is worth to you.
Looking sexy the most important thing.
The man, satisfied, releases you from trance and can’t help but begin to slowly stroke his pants...
“It’s the most important thing...” you methodically repeat. “That women look sexy.” You almost laugh as you say such a...true statement. Your beauty has always been priority number one, and you’ve wholeheartedly felt that fact should apply to other women. If only some of them put in the effort, they would be so, so much more beautiful. As you ponder what could have been with other women, your hair turns a bright blonde and grows longer, and your boobs get a bit larger.
“Sexiness determines a woman’s worth.”
“I think...sexiness... determines...a woman’s worth...” you say rather calmly. It’s...well...true to you, just as it should be true to everyone. Looks and worth are essentially one in the same when it comes to women. You know your worth, and you know you are worth a whole lot, given how incredible you always look, working, at home, or out. If women tried harder, they would be worth more, plain and simple. You never understood why Diana failed to value her appearance as much as you. That’s why you broke up. Looking sexy is the most important thing.
“And your sexiness especially determines YOUR worth.”
“My...my s-sexiness...” you say slowly, savoring the word. It’s like you are discovering that fact all over again. You knew your sexiness determined your worth just as it did other women, but you always knew you held yourself to a higher standard. Your mother was so beautiful, and she told you to emulate her, and you did. You feel so liberated and confident knowing you are an absolute knockout, even more than she was. That’s why you dyed your hair and got a boob job. That’s why you always wear makeup. That’s why you the instant you came home from work you put on a fabulous red dress and heels, because when you hit the town tonight you want to be so gorgeous that nobody can look away. Beauty is everything to you; beauty is worth to you.
Looking sexy the most important thing.
The man, satisfied, releases you from trance and can’t help but begin to slowly stroke his pants...
What do you do now?