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It’s simply the truth of the matter.

I mean, my mum thinks I’m handsome and my sister thinks I can be cute “in the right light”, but that’s really about it. For a long time, I believed them. There was a time in my late teens, where I genuinely thought that despite being overweight, having tiny eyes and terrible body odour, people could still find me attractive for ‘me’. Well, ‘me’ was someone I too didn’t like. So why would they? My family is my family. They’re stuck with me and are obligated to love me. But the world isn’t.

Having started to make my first wobbly steps in the ‘real world’, I’ve found that overwhelmingly, people don’t mince words. They don’t placate and ‘protect your feelings’. Hell, most of the time, people won’t even look twice at you. Everybody has their own lives and their own problems. Much as I feel like I’m the centre of the universe, so does everyone else.

So I decided to turn my life around. I can do this! I dieted, worked out, bought ample deodorant and cared about what other people thought. For a while, it worked. I lost a lot of weight and felt good about myself. My friends and family responded positively to my changes. People I knew smiled more when they saw me. I became a much happier, and definitely healthier, person.

And yet, I’m unattractive. My looks? They themselves are average at best now. I’m over 6-feet tall with a broad build and I can fit into a size 34 pair of jeans and look decent. What makes me unattractive is my personality and mannerisms. Women find me to be effeminate. I’m not offended by this at all. How can I be offended by the truth?

I am effeminate. I don’t want to dominate anyone. I talk with my hands. I love to read romance novels. Any sporting event puts me to sleep. I’ve watched every episode of Glee and Sex and the City and loved it. By all traditional male standards, I am, what many of my peers called me in high school: a pansy, ‘gay’, girly, etc. I’m the guy who perpetually gets ‘friendzoned’. Women look at me and think I’m fun! I’m so funny! I’m ‘the honorary gay best friend’!

To put it simply, women don’t find me attractive.

So…What’s the purpose of this? Am I just going to go on ranting about women? How does this lead me to accepting that I’m unattractive and being ‘okay’ with it? Why the hell am I even writing about it for nobody to read?

The answer is so far from profound, it’s galling. I don’t talk about this with anyone. What I’ve written above, in such a frank, lackadaisical manner, is one of my deepest insecurities. It’s one of those things that has kept me up at night. A scar that I’ve carried with me my whole life. Something that I can’t talk about to anyone because it’s so humiliating to admit.

This pain and insecurity brought me to doing what I do about every problem I’ve faced: I made a mental list and gave in to my thoughts.

I’ve tried so hard to blame the world for my problems. Pop culture taught me new-age drivel all through my adolescence of ‘being true to yourself’ and ‘loving you for you – flaws and all’. My parents for giving me false hope to inflate my ego. My friends for never telling me the truth. My teacher for telling me that all women eventually love men who are good at school.

Notice something about the list of complaints above? Yes, yes, that’s right. It’s the glaring irrationality of it all that amuses me too!

I’m lazy, I do have a real problem of being self-absorbed and narcissistic, I lie endlessly and I want the world to accept me ‘flaws and all’. I am deeply flawed and I don’t try hard enough to work on my issues. To put it bluntly: I’m not a catch.

The truth is that I’m not a good person. I’m not. I can try to justify how good of a person I am by my past deeds whilst trivialising the concurrent misdeeds, but in my heart, I know, I’m not a good person.

Women find me effeminate – that’s just the superficial. The core concern here is that I don’t find myself attractive. No one knows me better than me. And I don’t like me.

Why should I expect women to like me? Or men? Or anyone really?

I’m a liar. I lie all the time – to my family, to my employers, to my teachers, to myself. Little lies. Big lies. Intricate lies. Detailed lies. I lie so often and with such gusto that sometimes I completely forget that they are lies. I lie about everything.

I am an unattractive person. Today, I’ve become okay with it because that’s who I am.

I made this blog to speak my truth. So I could admit to all the shameful things I’ve done in my life – all the horrible things I’ve said and done to people.

I pray that with my reality out on the internet, I’ll think twice about continuing my pattern.

And maybe, just maybe, one day, I won’t be an unattractive person anymore.