After a flurry of logistical text messages and emails, you spend too much time thinking about what to wear. Because even though your goal for the evening isn't to meet a man (no, absolutely not), you know you'll be in a pack, and that pack will be on the prowl to find mates.
You're not alone. Until a partner is secured, you—like other similarly disposed women—are looking for that special "someone." Someone who notices you from across the crowded room. Someone who pushes his way across said crowded room to buy you a drink. Someone who will say, when you're finally face-to-face, "Wow, you're beautiful."
For this reason, your circle of friends has been carefully edited—consciously or not—so that no one person is too pretty, or too unattractive. They won't outshine you, but they also won't drag you down. In any given situation, they'll help you to attract a mate tailored to your strengths, and you'll do the same for them.
As Helen Fisher, Ph.D., biological anthropologist and author of Why Him? Why Her? How to Find and Keep Lasting Love, explains, "We are drawn to people who have the same degree of attractiveness because we share similar lifestyles with them. We eat at the same restaurants. We shop at the same stores. We have the same kinds of problems with boys."
In other words, in an ideal world, all your friends would be modified versions of—to rely on the Sex and the City paradigm—Charlotte, Samantha, Miranda and Carrie, each successful and attractive in her own way. Socially, you'd be at the same level, valuing the same things, both in yourself and in others. You'd be in similar leagues and on parallel paths, making the same mistakes at different times. In short, you'd balance each other out.
Unfortunately, real life isn't an HBO television show that neatly wraps up in a 15-episode season. And when you meet your friends for dinner, although the mood is friendly to the point of giddiness, underneath it all, a different kind of energy is teeming.
Like secret agents, you and the others discreetly scan the room, assessing the prospects. For you, there are one or two potentials, but no one who screams, "Yes, I'm him!"
Suddenly, your gaze settles—not on a man, but on a woman who has just entered the restaurant. You imagine that everyone turns with you to gape at the phoenix who has just risen from the ashes of ordinary-looking people. She's tall. She's stunning. She's a goddamned Helen of Troy.
She takes off her coat revealing the kind of figure you know exists, but would prefer existed elsewhere or, at the very least, was balanced by a face less fortunate than hers—anything to even the field.
"I hate you," you think before you can stop yourself, and then divert your eyes to the menu, your drink, your phone—all to distract you from your jealousy. Just as you think the knot of envy has unfurled itself a little, you look up and see that Helen of Troy is standing directly in front of you. "Hey!" she says shyly to the table.
"Hey, Helen!" the friend sitting to your right exclaims. "I'm so happy you could make it!"
"Thanks for the invite." She stands there, seemingly oblivious to the What the hell? looks passing among the rest of you.
"Girls, this is Helen," the Judas of the evening says. "We work together. She and her boyfriend just broke up, so I thought I'd ask her out tonight." She pauses, and then adds with too much enthusiasm, "With the rest of us single ladies."
"Are you crazy?" you feel like screaming. "You've gone and rendered the rest of us invisible!" You make a mental note to ask Judas what she could possibly see in this Helen girl (this surely unabashed flirt) later in the evening.
Your reaction, although not entirely justified, is normal. "In the back of their minds, women tend to be very cautious when they see a physically beautiful woman," says Jessica Weiner, author of Life Doesn't Begin 5 Pounds From Now. "There is an ingrained competitive spark. Part of that is biological. But most of it comes from the societal pressure that women have to compete with other women in order to find a mate."
To your surprise (and somewhat disappointment), Helen turns out to be perfectly nice. She deflects attention away from herself by constantly asking you questions. Despite yourself, you kind of begin to like her.
By the end of dinner, you're warming to Helen. You've heard a bit about her story, how boyfriend broke up with her because he wasn't ready for something serious—this after months of dating. It's a situation you can all relate to.
As you get up to move on to the next place, Helen leading the way, people make way for her. You watch as men stop their conversations, and turn their heads to follow her. With every silently mouthed "wow," with every widened eye, a little bit of your newly grown affection for her dissipates. You feel like a troll. You blame it on her.
After you witness a man practically tripping over himself to hold open the door for Helen, you've had enough. "I'm really tired," you say to the group. "I think I'm going to head home."
You kiss everyone on the cheek, coming to Helen last of all. She looks at you with her big, preternaturally lavender eyes.
"It was so, so nice to meet you," she says, hovering over you before she bends down to give you a quick hug. "I feel like we really connected. I'd love to hang out with you again soon."
"Totally!" you lie. "I'll get your number from Judas," which, naturally, you never actually do.
A few days later, it doesn't matter because Helen takes it upon herself to email you. "Hey," she writes. "It's me, the girl who intruded on your dinner. (Ha, ha.) How's your week going? Want to grab a drink? I'm having a kind of hard time, with this break up and all, and it was so great to talk to you the other night. :)"
Ugh, you think. An emoticon. But secretly, you're flattered that, out of all the girls, she chose to contact you. You did have a good connection. Yes, she's an attention diverter, but that doesn't mean that you can't be friends with her, right? After all, it's not like she's trying to be so beautiful.
After a few girl dates with Helen, you see her more clearly. She's still tall and thin, of course, but she struggles with ordinary things.
She hates her job and wishes she had a real passion. She complains about her gut, which all the Power Yoga in New York won't flatten. She drinks too much when she's nervous and tends to misuse big words, saying that she feels ambiguous about something when she means ambivalent. At first glance, everything looks easy for her, but with a closer look, you can see that she's, well, normal. Generous, thoughtful and, mercifully, not perfect.
"Once you develop a relationship with someone, good looks are less visible," says Fisher. "A sense of humor, kindness, compassion, creativity, spontaneity and dependability can become much more important."
It's true. You like spending time with Helen. Alone. But in public—out there for others to see and appraise—you can't shake the feeling that you're less attractive one, second best, the Debbie Reynolds to her Elizabeth Taylor. And we all know how that story turned out. (But in case you forgot, a refresher: Eddie Fisher left Reynolds and their two children for best pal Taylor. Years later, Reynolds reflected on the scandal: "Who would pass by Elizabeth? No woman living was as beautiful as her.")
Again, Fisher sheds light: "Even if we don't think of ourselves as shallow, we don't forget if a woman is better looking than we are. We can overcome it, but the brain has a hard time completely letting it go."
But you and Helen aren't actually competing against each other—not directly, you remind yourself. There is no one prize at the end, no winner or loser. The playing field is vast and various enough that when a guy prefers Helen to you, it's fine. He's not for you. (You repeat this like a mantra.) Because, there's a guy that will prefer you to Helen, will appreciate your smile and wit and ability to quote The Big Lebowski. You come to think of being friends with Helen as a test of your own character. She's only a social liability if you let her be, if you're cowed by your own insecurities in her presence. Eventually, being out with her becomes a point of pride, a chance for you to prove that you're confident enough to sit alongside a beautiful woman. And most of the time, it's true.
glo
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