I Hate It When Beautiful People Act Humble

I Hate It When Beautiful People Act Humble

Not every single girl in the world is beautiful. We all know that, right? That’s something I can say without inciting a riot? It’s just the truth. There are plenty of other qualities more important, anyway: intelligence, integrity, ability to find that bitch on Instagram with just a first name. I’d rather be ugly and petty than beautiful and hopeless as an online stalker, but that’s just me.

But there’s no denying that being beautiful, like truly beautiful, has its perks. You get hit on more often, which equals more free drinks, and people will constantly compliment you. This is what happens when you’re truly, conventionally gorgeous—I’m talking long legs, big Bambi eyes, and most likely Rapunzel-like hair that you were magically blessed with while the rest of us deal with extensions. If you’re non-conventionally pretty, I’m not talking about you. Sorry, but this is not a post about how unique qualities make you beautiful in your own way. This is for the girls who don’t have to be beautiful in their own way, because they’re perfect all on their own and don’t need any justification. Bitches.

I do not fit this mold. That’s not me trying to be modest, it’s just true. At barely five feet tall with a round face shape and my dad’s hand-me-down front teeth, I have the tendency to look more like a chipmunk searching for its next meal than a runway model. I’ve come to terms with dealing with that, as well as with my giant, Tyra Banks-style forehead. My limitations are my own cross to bear, and that’s cool. But I’ll never know what it’s like to be model-beautiful. That’s cool, too, but whenever I happen to be around someone who is that kind of beautiful, they have a tendency to refuse to acknowledge the truth. “Oh, I’m just good with a contour. Oh, my legs only look this long because I’m wearing heels. I don’t get hit on that often, honestly.”

Let’s get real.

If you are lucky enough to be one of those women out there who just naturally looks like you belong in a Vogue cover shoot, I want you to be owning that shit. That doesn’t necessarily mean you need to act like an asshole all the time, but when someone gives you a compliment, the least you could do is accept it without protest. All that happens when a girl acts like a compliment isn’t true is that everyone has to spend the next ten minutes attempting to convince her it is, and that’s fucking annoying.

Every beautiful girl in the world knows that she’s beautiful. All those songs about girls who don’t realize their own beauty are bullshit. The girls in those songs are being what we call falsely modest, or else they just really are that dumb, and I don’t buy that. Even the dim beautiful girls know enough to know they’re hot af. And if you are that kind of gorgeous, I don’t need you trying to tone it down because you’re afraid of hurting all the rest of us ugly girls’ feelings. Yeah, we do all wish that we had your thick eyelashes, smooth skin, and perky boobs, but it doesn’t make me feel any better when you act like you don’t know why these four guys are all hitting on you at once. You know why. We all know why—because you’re fucking gorgeous, and I want to see you own it or gain fifteen pounds all in your face and join the rest of us down here in the average-looking world.

I’m not saying beautiful people sail through life without any problems at all. I know that for the most part, they get through every day pretty much the same as the rest of us. My only request is that if you fall into the category of straight-up showstopper and you’re called out on it, don’t act humble. I want to see you downing your free drinks like you deserve them, because you do. Your genetics, and your cheekbones, are superior. Flaunt what you got, if not for yourself, then for the rest of us who have to put in a lot more work to get what you were born with. You’re one of the lucky ones. Enjoy it, you bitch.

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Shannon Layne

My favorite things are tiaras, compliments, and free drinks, which are becoming harder to come by the more I tend to show up at the bar in sweat pants. The proudest moment of my life so far has been landing an actual, paying job that allows me to Facebook stalk people for a living. I tweet about my mom way too often, who is constantly trying to remind me that I'm not nearly as cool as I think I am. Please send me funny stories to read at work here:

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