The agony of being TOO BEAUTIFUL to be faithful! As it's revealed attractive couples are more likely to divorce, this writer says she was bound to cheat because she was so much better looking than her husband
Beauty is a gift that ought to come with a caveat: a warning sign stating that while being gorgeous might sound like fun, when it comes to relationships, oh boy, are you in for a rough time.
I should know. You can call me immodest, vain even, for admitting so freely that in my youth I was good looking. But then, I believe that had I not been so beautiful, I might still be married to the man I once loved.
The fatal flaw in our relationship was I blossomed to become so much better looking than he was. My poor ex couldn’t cope with living in my shadow and constantly felt jealous and insecure.
Meanwhile, I had my fickle head turned every which way by the gorgeous men who stepped over my poor, plain accountant husband to flirt with his perky young wife.
I ended up leaving him for one of his rivals: a banker with blond hair and chiselled features who was introduced to me by a female friend.
The fact I was attractive meant I was constantly surrounded by men ready and willing to distract me from the path of true love. The more offers I got, the more convinced I became that the grass really was greener on the other side.
When things started to go awry with a boyfriend, I never felt remotely inclined to try to work through any problems. I simply moved on to the next man.
As a beautiful woman, I never had that fear I would be left alone.
There was always another charming, handsome replacement waiting in the wings to offer me the heady excitement of a new relationship.
For example, one afternoon I walked out of the hairdresser’s with a friend, only to have a gorgeous young man screech to a halt in his open-top Ferrari in front of me. ‘I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d driven past you,’ he said. ‘Will you come to the polo with me on Saturday?’
Before I had the chance to think, my friend had accepted for both of us. That weekend was spent drinking champagne with the attractive stranger and his wealthy friends. My boyfriend at the time — whoever he was — was forgotten.
I was a late developer as far as my looks were concerned — throughout my school days and early 20s, I had very little self-confidence.
So, when along came a lovely man who treated me well and clearly loved me dearly, I felt incredibly lucky to have him.
He wasn’t much of a looker, but then neither was I, so we seemed well matched. It was only around the time that we married that I suddenly began to blossom. My gangly limbs became shapely; my features somehow more refined.
I became fixated with the idea that I’d made a dreadful mistake in settling for someone whom I had mistakenly assumed was the best I could hope for.
For the first time in my life, men were falling over themselves to talk to me, even when I was with my husband. You can imagine the ego boost that gave me. Unforgivably, I chose to ignore how much hurt this would cause.
I remember soon after we married I was at a dinner party sitting next to an attractive male friend and realised with great regret I’d never have the opportunity to go out with another man again. There was a frisson of chemistry between us. Later that evening, I danced with him, despite seeing the pain on my husband’s face.
Julia Stephenson on being too beautiful to be faithful | Daily Mail Online
Beauty is a gift that ought to come with a caveat: a warning sign stating that while being gorgeous might sound like fun, when it comes to relationships, oh boy, are you in for a rough time.
I should know. You can call me immodest, vain even, for admitting so freely that in my youth I was good looking. But then, I believe that had I not been so beautiful, I might still be married to the man I once loved.
The fatal flaw in our relationship was I blossomed to become so much better looking than he was. My poor ex couldn’t cope with living in my shadow and constantly felt jealous and insecure.
Meanwhile, I had my fickle head turned every which way by the gorgeous men who stepped over my poor, plain accountant husband to flirt with his perky young wife.
I ended up leaving him for one of his rivals: a banker with blond hair and chiselled features who was introduced to me by a female friend.
The fact I was attractive meant I was constantly surrounded by men ready and willing to distract me from the path of true love. The more offers I got, the more convinced I became that the grass really was greener on the other side.
When things started to go awry with a boyfriend, I never felt remotely inclined to try to work through any problems. I simply moved on to the next man.
As a beautiful woman, I never had that fear I would be left alone.
There was always another charming, handsome replacement waiting in the wings to offer me the heady excitement of a new relationship.
For example, one afternoon I walked out of the hairdresser’s with a friend, only to have a gorgeous young man screech to a halt in his open-top Ferrari in front of me. ‘I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d driven past you,’ he said. ‘Will you come to the polo with me on Saturday?’
Before I had the chance to think, my friend had accepted for both of us. That weekend was spent drinking champagne with the attractive stranger and his wealthy friends. My boyfriend at the time — whoever he was — was forgotten.
I was a late developer as far as my looks were concerned — throughout my school days and early 20s, I had very little self-confidence.
So, when along came a lovely man who treated me well and clearly loved me dearly, I felt incredibly lucky to have him.
He wasn’t much of a looker, but then neither was I, so we seemed well matched. It was only around the time that we married that I suddenly began to blossom. My gangly limbs became shapely; my features somehow more refined.
I became fixated with the idea that I’d made a dreadful mistake in settling for someone whom I had mistakenly assumed was the best I could hope for.
For the first time in my life, men were falling over themselves to talk to me, even when I was with my husband. You can imagine the ego boost that gave me. Unforgivably, I chose to ignore how much hurt this would cause.
I remember soon after we married I was at a dinner party sitting next to an attractive male friend and realised with great regret I’d never have the opportunity to go out with another man again. There was a frisson of chemistry between us. Later that evening, I danced with him, despite seeing the pain on my husband’s face.
Julia Stephenson on being too beautiful to be faithful | Daily Mail Online
some days i understand why people kill these women
