In grade school and high school, I was never one of the "pretty ones." I was on the pudgy side, and I oh-so-desperately wanted to be thin. I wanted to wear the cool clothes and be beautiful so that the cute boys would like me. But it just wasn't me. I was relegated to being one of the "smart ones." Grades came easy to me like being gorgeous came to the homecoming queen. So it became my station in life.
College was marginally better, but I still wasn't a stand-out among the throngs of lovely co-eds at UGA. I believe it's true, that girls are prettier down South, and the Freshman 15 that stayed for far too long certainly didn't win me pageant points. But here I became comfortable in my skin; it was okay to just be smart, to let my brain be my identity.
This identity was severely called into question during law school. Everyone was super-smart in law school (well, maybe not everyone, not naming names *cough*amber*cough* (kidding)). Also, lots of girls seemed to be extremely attractive; I definitely was not a contender for "Top 10 1L Girls" my first year by the imbecils who put out the list. Now I was both ugly and stupid. Awesome. Yet even still...the "nerd" label sort of stuck. Until 3L year I didn't drink on school nights...even during 3L year, I was one of two people who did the reading for nearly all my classes and never skipped class just because I didn't feel like going.
Here, in my small town, though...the tables have turned. In court today one of the older attorneys said to me, "I was talking to someone this weekend about a new attorney in town, and it turned out to be you. He was saying, 'She is really very pretty.'"
My heart sank when he said this. Not because I know the truth (which is that I'm still the same attractiveness level, but relatively speaking, anyone not 200 lbs overweight is a supermodel in this town, and that people get distracted by my hair, which I'll admit can be nice), but because I really, really wanted him to say "intelligent" or "good" or "smart." Something that indicated I was impressing people with my brains, not my ass.
And then there's more. I learned this weekend that a couple of people in the DA's office have had other court personnel (i.e. police officers) asking them about me - do I have a boyfriend, am I dating, etc. Also, the bailiffs borderline harass me in the courtroom, telling me how good I look; it's good-natured, but still inappropriate in front of clients.
What all this long-windedness boils down to is that now I guess I've kind of got it - my wish to be one of the "pretty ones." And it sucks. I fear that I'm not being taken seriously because of these people's perceptions of my beauty. Ironically, now I don't give a damn if they think I'm cute or hot or whatever. I just want to be a kick-ass lawyer. I just want to be one of the "smart ones" again. I just want my identity back.
3 comments:
Don't hate on me Niki--I was the genius behind "A .13 BAC made Frank's car hit that tree." Anyways, at least you didn't put that jab after your next sentence--that I wasn't one of the attractive ones-ha! Oh wait a minute. . .
Anyways--you are a super smart super hot attorney. These country folk just don't know what hit 'em!
And oh--I'm you tomorrow--doing misdemeanor defense in court. I want to puke--I have no clue what I'm doing! Wish me luck!
Girl! These people are initially struck by your bootyfulness (and who wouldn't be?) but once they got to talk to you and know you they would then be struck by your big, beautiful brain.
I've known you forever and am still struck by your intelligence! Now why in the HELL didn't you help me get better grades in college, Miss Smarty Pants? Roommate schmoommate.
I feel you, Nik. For one of my clients, I am the only female on the agency or client side. And I have been busting my ass. And I have been relieved that most of my client contact has been over the phone. Not because I think they'd be wowed by my beauty, but because right now, today, when the client said something about, "hey guys" and then said, "I hope you don't mind me, Ashley, calling you one of the guys" I thought - no way. I don't mind. That's exactly what I want: you to think I'm one of the guys busting my ass and not thinking about me being a woman.
And even though it's flattering, it's just...not where you want to be flattered.
Post a Comment