If you could be described in just one single word, what would you choose? I don’t mean how would you describe yourself. I mean how would you hope to be described by someone else?
A few years ago there was an email flying around, where your friends had to choose that one perfect word that defined you and then of course, you them. I got “vivacious” (several times, even from my own mother!), “bubbly”, ”charismatic”, “colourful” – all darn fine words and I’m not complaining. I’m also happy to report there was nothing like “cantankerous”, “ridiculous” or say “ blonde.” There was “generous”, “thoughtful” and “sensitive” and I’m very happy to know my pals do think of me in those terms.
But then there were a couple of head-scratchers, funnily enough from two of my closest friends.
Julie wrote “Seeker”.
What do you mean, asked I (giving my blonde head a shake)? She replied “You never stop seeking, you never stop learning, you never stop growing. It defines you above all else. You are a seeker.”
Damn. I think I just about cried.
And then came Chandra who wrote quite simple “Big”.
Well okay, retorted I somewhat indignantly, “Maybe I’ve put on a few lbs. But really?”
She just laughed and said “You are ‘Big’ to me. You are one of the ‘Biggest’ things in my life. You are my ‘Big’ soulmate and my ‘Big’ confidante and just ‘Big’ in my life.”
I’m pretty sure I did cry.
At that time there was no man in my life, so I never got to find out how a “lover” might characterize me. I was however fully aware of the one word that had been sorely lacking in my life.
“Beautiful”.
For some reason (and ladies, feel free to weigh in on this one), men don’t use the word “beautiful” nearly enough. I’ve been with guys who said I “looked good” or I’m “attractive” or “look nice” or my all-time favorite – “that dress is really something!”
Huh? The dress? What about the chick wearing it? You know, the one who just spent an hour shaving every extremity ( and a few in-tremities too), curling her hair and applying makeup and all that stuff? What about that broad?
Nope. It was a rare occasion that “Beautiful” showed up. And I really could never figure out why. Is it because I’m skanky? Is it because you reserve that adjective only for motorized vehicles and golf shots? Is it because you feel like a bit of a wuss waxing so poetic?
I have no idea. And if you’re wondering why “beautiful” is so gosh-darned important to me, let me try to explain. If a man says “You are so beautiful” it makes you feel like he really sees you, inside and out. Remember in the movie “Avatar” when the two lovers say that exact phrase – “I see you”? So much more powerful than “I love you. “ Because I love lots of people and say those words quite freely. But how many people see inside your soul? Those are the people who call you “beautiful.”
So I will tell you, “beautiful” is a damn fine word. Special even.
But guess what? In spite of my obvious (obsessive?) linguistic fixation, I’ve recently experienced a different descriptor that might well give “beautiful” a run for its money.
“Fascinating.”
Yeah.
A really interesting guy called me fascinating.
And you know what? I’m not going to think about it or analyze it or interpret it or wonder about its meaning and/or implications. I am simply going to revel in it.
Because I don’t actually care anymore if I’m beautiful.
I am …
Fascinating.