Opinion People Judge Me Just Because I'm Really Pretty

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People Judge Me Just Because I'm Really Pretty​

"Maybe you should just leave the handyman work to your husband," the hardware store employee told me when I asked him what aisle the adhesives were in.

I stood speechless and fuming that he would be so gender-discriminatory toward me when another woman walked up to us.

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She asked the store employee where she could find a ratchet set and as I braced myself for another sexist comment, the same employee answered, "They're in aisle 12."

He then turned back to me and told me pretty girls should leave the "technical" work to people who know how to handle it. Not men, but "people." Um, did he just insinuate that I'm stupid?

To a man who knew absolutely nothing about me, I was no more than a pretty face.

I forced myself to walk away as anger boiled up inside of me and called a friend outside, ranting into the phone about the jackass in the store.

"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful" is a phrase used in jest during sarcastic conversations, usually when we're making fun of beautiful women who claim their good looks are a hardship. But the reality is that although being pretty does make some things easier, it also definitely makes some things harder.

I'm tired of being judged because of my attractive face. I'm tired of being whittled down to nothing more than my looks because people naively think I have nothing more to offer. And I'm tired of people believing that just because I'm pretty, I don't have a right to get upset when I'm treated as nothing more than that.

I'm tired of men assuming I must be easy. (No, I didn't wake up and put on this face just so I could find someone to have sex with.)

I'm tired of women thinking I'm going to try and sleep with their husbands just because they're insecure about the way I look. (I don't want your husband — this is just how I look.)

I'm tired of co-workers not taking me seriously and treating me like I'm nothing more than cheekbones and blue eyes. (Newsflash: I didn't get this job because I attached a photo to my resume.)

I'm tired of the snide comments women whisper in my presence and think I can't hear them. (I'm pretty, not deaf.)


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I'm tired of people assuming that just because I'm pretty, I'm also brainless, stuck-up, and most likely a slut, because that's the stereotype our society perpetuates.

When you add in the fact that I'm a single mom, I'm pretty much doomed to be perceived as nothing more than a knocked-up baby mama (who was actually married for eight years in which two kids were conceived) looking for a sugar daddy. Because isn't that what all the pretty, single mothers are doing these days?

Gag me. I'm sick of it.

Laughable as it may be, "pretty girl problems" are a real thing.

Sure, most people would agree that good-looking people have some advantages over less attractive people, but it's not a black and white issue.

Being pretty is a blessing and a curse, just like fame and money. There are trade-offs.

I'm so much more than pretty. I'm a domestic violence survivor, hard-working mother of two special needs children, founder of a nonprofit, former missionary, and woman's rights activist.

But because I'm pretty, all of that often doesn't matter to people — because I'm pretty. Probably just pretty.

So do I have a right to complain about the burdens of being pretty? Hell yeah, I do. But remember: I'm not complaining about my face. I'm happy with it, I'm grateful for it.

What I am complaining about are the opinions of narrow-minded, jealous, insecure, and shallow people who judge me entirely on my physicality.

Don't hate me just because I'm beautiful.

RELATED: Science Says Women With Specific Facial Features Are The Most Beautiful
 
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This is what she looks like


her bio is also rather weird because she defines herself as cute and single mother.

for some reason I get the vibe that she really needs therapy.
she's a 7/10 at best, 5 or 6 if we're being realistic.
 
That's a man, baby

Hiding the adam's apple with that notepad
She's not, she's really that ugly and delusional. The fact you think this proves her point otherwise. Hah.

Here is her biography:

If I could describe myself in just three words, I’d say… I have no f’ing clue.​
I guess I should start by saying that if you don’t want to read about domestic violence and sexual assault, then you’re reading the wrong blog. I should also add that if you don’t want to read about sex, you’re still in the wrong place. Same goes for poverty, special needs parenting, dating, remarriage, the faults of our legal system, my adorable children (I might be biased), and my really, really, stupid ex husband.​
That’s a lot to take in, right?​
And while I’m at it, in full disclosure, we also talk about disowning abusive families, open relationships, stripping, shaving your newborn baby’s head with eyebrow trimmers, and that time I accidentally stayed in a hotel that was adjoining a drug rehab facility.​
There was also that instance when a police officer taught me that it’s illegal to wear a mask on a public street in Florida, while I was wearing a mask for fun.​
There really is a lot going on here, but it all started when unbeknownst to me, I married a drug addict, who then abused me, raped me, and cheated on me for nearly eight long years. With no family support to leave him, no money for a divorce lawyer, no childcare to get a job, and no job to pay for childcare, I was trapped living in a state where fleeing with your children is considered kidnapping. And then one day in a crazy twist that inspired this blog, my husband simply walked out of our house and completely disappeared. He emptied the bank account, quit his job, abandoned his car, shut off his phone, and suddenly I was left with a three-year-old-daughter, a seven-month-old son, no money, no job, and no hope.​
No hope that is, until I met a young attorney who heard my story and wanted a better life for me, than I alone could give myself. He got me divorced and set me free; yet over the next several years, I struggled as a single working mother, living well below the poverty line.​
Then one day, while feeding my kids from a food pantry, and feeling just completely down on life, I began blogging my story; completely unfiltered.​
It was a choice that sparked a writing career which has spanned from Disney to Lifetime, Good Morning America to Women’s Health, and over 50 other different companies. Splashed across the cover of Yahoo and seated in a chair on various talk shows, no one is more surprised than me at how far I’ve come from the empty reflection of abuse I used to see in the mirror each and every night.​
With my attorney, I then founded a nonprofit for women just like me; providing them with pro bono legal representation so that they too, can divorce their abusers and be set free.​
I also tracked down my ex through the legal system and after finding him remarried, with a new family, and hiding it all from the courts, I brought him to justice.​
During the process, I disowned my entire extended family; wanting a better life for myself moving forward, than they had taught me to want growing up.​
I’m happy. Not always, but I try to be. I met the man of my dreams, and together we are raising the two children I brought into the marriage, along with our toddler son; one family, always destined to be. You’ll see them here referred to as The Guy, The Girl Child, The Boy Child, and The Littlest, simply to keep their names from being plastered all over the Internet.​
As for me, well, here I am. And where that is, is ever changing. A story, that hasn’t ended yet, proven by the continuing pages of this blog.​
Welcome, and blessings.​

She seems to be the kind of bitch whose traumas are her whole personality.

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Yes, you need it indeed.
 
"Maybe you should just leave the handyman work to your husband," the hardware store employee told me when I asked him what aisle the adhesives were in.
HAHAH "And the name of that employee? Albert Einstein." It looks fake as hell. I doubt an employee would say such offensive thing in this year and century, especially when they know they could get fired.
 
7/10? Are you blind or just sexually attracted to mutants? There is nothing and I mean nothing remotely attractive about her face. She straight up looks like a tranny.
to be fair, I just saw the original photo, and to get to a 7 she'd need to do some make up wizardry to hide the fact that she has a more prominent jawline than most men.
 
I wouldn't say "cute". Cute is soft and young looking, neither of which she's displaying here. I definitely wouldn't call her beautiful, either.

I'd describe her as modestly handsome.

I also wouldn't be surprised if "she" has a penis.


She has.

If you check that Bio Page you posted earlier closely, it states the following:

And while I’m at it, in full disclosure, we also talk about disowning abusive families, open relationships, stripping, shaving your newborn baby’s head with eyebrow trimmers, and that time I accidentally stayed in a hotel that was adjoining a drug rehab facility.​

I can't find much evidence of her stripper career, as it appears that in a burst of sobriety, she purged most relevant entries from her blog. However, she was sloppy, and there is still evidence of her career in other places; as for example in this blog post, where amongst other things, she mentions teaching stripper classes. (archive)

I'm not a BP user myself, but if any fans of the BP board are reading this and like compiling content, this lady (?) is definitely nuts, and may be worth a thread.
the angles on her face and her eyes all fucking scare me.

you sure we can't get the entries via wayback machine or sth?


anyways this lady looks coo coo for cocoa puffs. wouldn't be surprised if Null gets some takedown request or sth just because we're shitting on her looks and her ego.

It's always in the eyes. She has crazy eyes. Can't smile with them. She also looks quite scary and manly in this pic:

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Reeks of NPD.
jesus christ that's a big face.

no wonder she's desperate.
 
The top part of her face may have been fine 10 years ago.

But she has a fucking manjaw even trannies would go for, damn she is a honorary chad with that chin. It could crack polar ice.

Single mother, check. Crazy as fuck eyes to even make me flinch, check.
Too crazy and too slutty, and I like yanderes in thot outfits.
 
"Maybe you should just leave the handyman work to your husband," the hardware store employee told me when I asked him what aisle the adhesives were in.
If it's obvious you know what you're doing, no one but complete assholes are going to say something like this. They are more interested in you buying shit than what chromosomes you have or lack. I've seen horsefaced hillbilly girls that are prettier.
 
you sure we can't get the entries via wayback machine or sth?
I posted a few on Page 2 of this thread (edited my response, so you may have missed Da Update). Her current blog has been scoured of stripper stories near as I can tell, but there are Wayback entries from a prior blog URL (It Is Not My Shame to Bear) that feature a bunch of Sex in the City stories, about her sexy career as a sexy stripper who banged homeless men and empowered big boobed women to feel better about themselves through the magic of STRIP DANCE CLASSES.

Unsurprisingly, the Farmers whose Crazy Chick Alarm's going off are absolutely correct. It's Penthouse Letters for Karens.

Note- It Is Not My Shame to Bear is actually still up, but it clumsily redirects to Edenstrong, her main website that other Farmers keep finding. I'm just using Wayback to read her ShameToBear stories, but if you've got a green belt or higher in browser fu, you might be able to find and archive more on the old blog itself.
 
Her'es a fun one: it's not about sex or stripping or or doing blow with a hobo while living in the Hyatt like a wealthy bohemian; it's about her kids calling her out and telling her she's full of shit.

Just then, The Boy Child leaned over, put his hand on my arm, and said "it's OK mommy, you can pretend to be anything you want to be. I'll believe in you."​
I then dropped them both off at school where they fawned over my famous author friend, writer of a (really cool) children's book, and I went home to finish up a few articles for my fake job.​
So that was fun.​
At least I still have one kid that loves me.​

I hope she's making up the kids, too, because if not I feel bad for them.
 
If it's obvious you know what you're doing, no one but complete assholes are going to say something like this. They are more interested in you buying shit than what chromosomes you have or lack. I've seen horsefaced hillbilly girls that are prettier.
This stuff is also a "Everyone on the bus clapped" alarm for me too.

My guess is she asked about bathroom adhesives and the clerk said something like "Oh, are you and your husband remodeling?" , sensing an opportunity for additional sales, and in the mind of the perpetually offended victim class she is no doubt a card carrying member of, it was twisted into "Ha ha, little girls shouldn't play with men's stuff!"

he didn't REALLY say that, but I know what he MEANT to say!
 
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