Love Isn't Always A Rollercoaster...

I had a strange day not so long ago.

I don't know if it was the emotional instability that comes with being a woman at times, or if it was truly what I thought I was worried about. I suppose I'd have to share what that was to know.

I went to Blackpool Pleasure Beach a few months ago with my partner and his two children. It was the first time I've been in a long time, and having two small children but a relatively pleasant day was nice enough.

I sat on my own for a time at one point, just listening, observing, and wondering why I was so concerned that I didn't fit in with the scantily-clad crowd, or the hooting-laughter crowd, why I wanted him to win me some small, silly prize, why I was sad to be in such a crowd of confident people having fun. I worried that perhaps my social skills really had dwindled into almost nothing. I worried that my insecurities had grown to an alarming level. But those are stories for another day.

I looked at the girls passing me by - none were stunning. None were really all that attractive at all, in honesty. Certainly not my type. They were the fake tan, bad dye jobs, talon-clawed and heavily made-up kind. But they all had partners or children. It was one of those ‘Good lord, they can get it, what was wrong with me for so long?’ kinds of moments. They should be gone, I know. I'm happy now. Happier and more secure. But you can't change the past, or erase hurt, and youth can be cruel to its fellow man, or girl. And so it's not gone. It creeps in now and then.

In turn, I looked at the guys on the arms of these girls completely unlike me. They weren't my type, either. Some were metro-sexual to a fault (not many mind since it was Blackpool, after all), others were buff meatheads, and some were downright ripped right out of Deliverance. None were what I'd call attractive. But the niggle was there. If that look scored men, was it because it seems like they've tried to be attractive even if they're doing it, what I'd call wrongly?

And so I thought I'd ask the only male whose opinion I needed.

If he'd said what I feared he might, I'd have been crushed, I'll be honest. I'll never be like that without being completely untrue to myself. I had a light spray tan once and fucking hated it. I've grown to like my hair colour, even as it's increasingly threaded with silver. I have clear enough skin because I rarely wear makeup. I'm comfortable and accurately presented as such. But what if that wasn't enough? What if I just hadn't thought to check if he wanted a trophy, a prize, too?

He could have a woman who looked better than any and all of them, who took care of her appearance and rocked up to a theme park flawless. Someone who turned heads. He could. His heart and mind and looks make me jealous of the women who got to him before I did, and I see him in my head with beautiful women, if that was only what he'd chosen over me. The mind of a woman is a cruel one, I know.

And so I had to quiet that niggling voice somehow, and he sat beside me and unaware of that niggle that had affected me so, was the only one who could silence it (as he so often, thankfully, does).

Now, the wording is sketchy, because memory issues - yikes - but the gist was:

What do you think of those women who have fake tan, and wear makeup, and do themselves up and stuff?Not much really, why?I just wondered​ if you'd go for someone like that. Someone who obviously made an effort…As opposed to me......who doesn't need to?

I won't lie.

I fought back tears pretty hard.

I told him so, but I didn't tell him quite how deeply it touched me to hear him say that.

I'd looked at these people all day, fighting withdrawal into myself, trying not to feel like I was out of place walking beside him. To be so afraid of asking a question, and hearing such a kind, gentle response. I really can't say how much it was everything I needed in that moment of just he and I.

What knocked me speechless was not only the simplicity of the statement, but the sincerity with which it was delivered. The way he looked at me, the warmth in his voice - despite it being freezing by that time! - and the directness.

I fell in love all over again. Right there and then. I loved him with such ferocity that I couldn't even do anything about it. And I don't think he really had any idea. He had no idea of the impact that kindness had. I'm not sure he does even now.

And the niggling voice?

Well, she scampered right back off to whatever rock she crawled​ out from under.