Dear E. Jean: Okay, I wouldn’t admit this to anyone I know personally, but I’m highly sexual and severely jealous. I constantly notice the eyes of the guy I’m with: where his glances go, at what angles, for how long, how many times. This consumes so much of my time, it wears me out.
I’m jealous of other women’s bodies. Though I’m very pretty, I’m terrified another girl will make my beau fantasize about her and get bored with me because I don’t have her perfect physical attributes—hourglass figure, flat belly, large breasts.
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How do I stop fearing the perfect bodies around me that he might see? —Pretty and Suspicious
My pretty: Next time you’re brunching at a sidewalk café and the beau’s appetite turns to the tarts, cock your head, twist your shoulders, and freeze like the Venus de Milo. When he makes a remark, act surprised: “Ah! Darling! Forgive me! You noticed I couldn’t keep my eyes off that dude—don’t look! Good lord! I never saw so many sexy—Oh! Don’t look, darling!”
Your hand will be seized, your fork thrown across the street, your attention demanded as your beau aggressively stares down every male human in the vicinity. The poor chump is hardwired by Ms. Evolution to obsess about his status, compare himself to his fellows, and envy any man more potent than he. (Where do you think the term pissing contest comes from?) By the time the bill arrives, his brain will be so fogged with fantasies of strangling the guys he thinks you’re looking at, he’ll have forgotten the tarts altogether.
Note: Having brought him to the brink of hysteria once, a simple “Oh! My! God!” under your breath whenever you’re out together will suffice to draw his eyes away from boobies (I can’t say “boobies” enough, I love it so) and latch them on to any gent within 300 yards of your charms.
But see here. You can’t make someone love you. He’s with you because he wants to be. And anyway, you’ve written to Auntie Eeee because it’s you who feels the sting of jealousy. Alas, you’re as loaded with Ms. Evolu’s status cocktail as the boys. But one trick may be helpful in resolving what I call the Boobies Threat Alert:When I leave the house, I just assume that every woman I see will be lovelier, smarter, younger, thinner, richer, and sexier than I. Then, if I suddenly behold an unkind, conniving, selfish, skinny bitch, my heart leaps because I’m not so badly off.
This letter is from the E. Jean archive.