Beautiful Women have it tough. But then again, they're beautiful...

I'm rather plain.

No, don't argue with me. I know it's the truth, and I'm okay with that. As far as what our culture defines beauty to be, I am not that. I've struggled with this, fought with God, and I'm fine now.

However, I am occasionally still very jealous of women who are really beautiful. You know the ones. The perfect face, the slender but curvy hips, the dainty feet, the well-formed breasts, the doe eyes, the pursed lips, the soft and luxuriant long hair. These women often come with a somewhat vacant look in their eyes, but no one notices, because they're so pretty.

Besides, brains are gravy. Icing. Really, most men want a woman who is beautiful first, then theologically sound, then well-trained domestically. If they happen upon a woman who is all these things and also can hold up a decent conversation, that's great. But not necessary for marital bliss. Brains are almost superfluous in a woman who has all these other qualities.

Brains are my greatest asset. I have a not-unpleasant face, mediocre knowledge of my faith, and am a decent cook, but I am-- dare I say it?-- brilliant. Really. I may be one of the smartest people you've met. I'm not bragging, and I'm certainly not arrogant about it, but a girl's got to acknowledge what she does have, and brains is it for me.

So, I've been jealous-- even bitter-- about beautiful women. Today, that changed for me a little.

I've been considering a certain family that I know marginally who have several daughters, all in the late teens to early adulthood stage. All the daughters are unmarried, and all of them are drop-dead, pee-your-pants, drool-on-the-floor pretty. Additionally, they all play instruments, they have pleasant singing voices, come from a good Christian family, and make fantastic cookies. Not only that, but they're also very kindhearted, attentive, patient, demure, gentle, great with kids, and full of compassion.

They are everything a man could want. As far as I can tell, they're even fairly smart. Wow! Who could ask for more?

Naturally, as a "normal" girl, not one of these dreamboat femmes, I have been a bit resentful of this family. It just wasn't fair, I thought. They got it all. The talent, the looks, the brains, the upbringing. I got shafted! And of course, men throw themselves at these girls. Men hang around them for weeks trying desperately to scare up the courage to start a conversation with them. The girls of this family have it made. They can have any man they want.

Which is why, today, when I observed a few members of this family, I, for the first time in my life, felt sorry for them and for all beautiful women, especially those of the Christian persuasion.

It's a bit ludicrous, really. It's like if a homeless veteran felt sorry for Bill Gates, because that's just too much money to know what to do with. But really, I have a good reason for feeling sorry for them.

See, if you are a Christian, then you probably believe that you will marry just one person and stay with that person forever. So, in the process of dating, you look at different people and investigate if any of them would make a good marital companion for you. You whittle it down to one, and then you marry that person and hopefully live happily ever after.

But what would you do if you had dozens of options? What would you do if, just because of the way you looked, any man would do anything necessary to be with you?

And, of course, since we know that looks alone are not good basis for relationship, all these men would also be trying to convince you that it wasn't, in fact, just your looks that they liked about you.

How would you sift through all the puddles of drool to find a man who truly valued you for who you are as a person? How would you find your soulmate among the hordes who wanted to be just that? And how could you justify turning away so many men who were equally enamored with you, thrusting them upon the rest of us as your discards?

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I have to stop for a moment and mention that I am not being sarcastic. I know that the above might sound very cynical indeed, and quite facetious at best, but that is not my intent.

I am truly trying to place myself in the plight of the beautiful woman. I really do feel sorry for her, for having to do this. For having to break hearts. For having to tell men (though not in these exact words), "Sorry, you're just not good enough for me."

As a culture we value beauty so highly because men are, as the experts tell us, primarily visual creatures. They see what we look like first, and then notice the rest of our assets. If a girl is not strikingly beautiful, it will take even a good, godly man quite a while to notice her for who she is over how she looks.

So I am not trying to make a point by arguing ad absurdum. I am truly pitiful of the woman who is remarkably beautiful, because finding true love must be ever so much more difficult for her than for those of us whose best suit is Brains.

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Really, I mean, if all the men around you are willing to give life and limb for you because you're beautiful (Remember Helen of Troy? Yeah, those men fought each other for ten years over her beauty, not over her honor), how do you know which one really is The One for you? If you're getting offers all the time, how do you know a good one when you see one?

Over the past eight or nine years, I have gotten one real pursuer about every other year. I usually come to my senses a few months later, but then I don't have any pursuit for another year and a half or so.

During this time, I had my eye on one man, who I considered to be the gold standard. I compared everyone else to him, and if they didn't hold up, I eventually let them go. Now I'm in a relationship with that man, and everyone else pales in comparison. It really is as wonderful as I had dreamed.

I can't imagine a life where every man around me wants to pursue me. I wouldn't know what to do with that. I could never be friends with men because their end of the friendship would be one long double meaning. I enjoy my male friends and I can't imagine not having them in my life. But if I was beautiful, I couldn't have them. I would have to draw a very clear line between myself and my friends, and them. Because all that friendship would have ulterior motives.

So, if only for the sake of having great male friends, I'm glad not to be beautiful.

But then again, I return to that moment in "Notting Hill" after Julia Roberts' character tries to convince everyone that she's pathetic.

"Nah!!! Nice try, gorgeous -- but you don't fool anyone."