“For the imaginary women are always accessible, always subservient, call for no sacrifices or adjustments. Among those shadowy brides, he is always adored, always the perfect lover; no demand is made of his unselfishness, no mortification ever imposed on his vanity. In the end, they become merely the medium through which he increasingly adores himself.” ~ C.S. Lewis
She is real, and she refuses to feel resentful toward her realness any longer.
She is not pixelated or photoshopped. She can’t be viewed in perfect studio lighting or admired in HD with the mere click of a mouse. You don’t get to choose her based on what you are in the mood for that day.
She is consistent. She is present. She is real.
She wasn’t meticulously cast with the single purpose to please you. To be submissive. To follow a script along with directions. She was not placed in front of you with the distinct and solitary purpose of pleasure. She is a woman with her own thoughts and opinions—not the mere echo of what a man wishes to hear from her beautiful mouth.
She wasn’t made to be an agreeable ego boost. She wasn’t placed in your life to succumb to your every wish and demand. She was gifted with thoughts and feelings, yet you obviously forget that she doesn’t live her life by a fantasy script.
She is not an actress; she is real.
She doesn’t get the privilege of only being shown in the most flattering ways, the most complimentary lights. She does not undergo professional beauty maintenance throughout the course of her day. She cannot live her life adorned in only the most expensive and beautiful sets of lingerie.
She has responsibilities. She lives in reality. She is here. She is present, and she is real.
She has a job. She has goals. She has big dreams and ambitions she is working toward. When she arrives home, she washes off her makeup and puts on her comfy pants, because life isn’t always corsets and high heels.
Because she is real.
She is right in front of you, in the living flesh.
She isn’t perfect, although she tries to be.
She isn’t airbrushed, photoshopped, perfectly dolled up or flawless. However, she is beautifully flawed. She is magnificently genuine. She can offer a man things that the women of the internet cannot: affection, presence, conversation, realness.
She wasn’t crafted to succumb to every fantasy, and she wasn’t designed for your pleasure. She was built to challenge someone—mentally, spiritually and physically. She wasn’t meticulously chosen from a long line of women to fulfill selfish whims. She is a waitress, not an actress. A business woman, cashier, writer or teacher—not a performer.
She is real, and finally she realizes that it isn’t her at all.
It is not her fault that you constantly refuse to honor what is right in front of you. She does not need to carry the burden of not being enough on her freckled and fragile shoulders any longer. It is not her fault that you long for something more, something better. It is not her fault that you refuse to accept her as enough.
She is enough.
Even if you had the woman from the screen right in front of you, at your fingertips, at your personal disposal, even she would not even be enough for you. Because then you would realize that she is real too.
She would become a human—a woman like me.
A woman with thoughts.
A woman with feelings.
A woman with emotions.
A woman with hopes, dreams and goals.
A woman with demands; a woman who would require compromise.
She is enough, but the simple fact that she is real scares you so damn much.
Author: Emily Cutshaw
Editor: Toby Israel
Image: Matthew Kane/Unsplash