There’s this Armani ad. Armani Code for women, to be exact. The dark-haired beauty in her sleek, low-back dress is looking directly at you. Her eyes are piercing with confidence and determination and she seems to have found her target for the night.
One of my best friends in college used to say that this ad reminded her of me every time she saw it. It wasn’t because I use Armani Code, because I don’t. It wasn’t because I have a long black dress or shiny black hair, because I don’t. It was because every time we walked into a party together, I had that look on my face. I always found my target and I always knew which guy I wanted. After a while, some of my friends began to call me “picky;” others “superficial.” I only wanted the beautiful, perfect man.
It took me a couple years and a breakup to realize what that was all about, because at this very moment I am right back where I started. Eventually, over the years, as college drew to a close, I grew out of my vain superficiality. I gave people a chance and actually got to know them.
Today, however, once again, I don’t give a damn.
I got to thinking about what happened to me. Have I reverted back to my old self? Did my evolution as a human being stop and pull a U-turn? It may seem that way on the surface, but I don’t think so.
Here’s what I figured out: After my breakup, my heart still does and will belong to someone else. That’s not going away anytime soon. When there’s a big “No-Vacancy” sign in front of my heart, I become the female equivalent of a man (with a little more discretion in the looks department). There’s no room in my heart to actually get to know someone right now, so why even bother?
It’s not because I’m afraid of getting hurt again, like many would presume. There’s just no room for that there. The good or the bad.
For now, I’ll settle for the vain superficiality of perfection. I’ll splash on some perfume, walk into a room, and find my perfect, beautiful target.