Jolie Laide

At first glance, you see a child walking toward you - and then after a slow realization, you understand that your brain has played tricks on you. In actuality, this is just a very short adult. A four-foot-eleven adult that looks nothing like the photos you've been shown of her on her social media. To call this woman homely would be an insult to the ugliest of humans. The images posted to Facebook are of a smiling brunette with cute and charming angular features prominent cheekbones, lustrous white skin, and stylish clothing. This woman is a far cry from the disheveled, short, squat woman that stands before you now. You observe the chintzy brown hair, pasty complexion, flat features, and prominent double chin. She sports oversized “grandma” glasses, which you imagine to be a bold attempt at making others think she is fashionable and ironic. In actuality, this eyewear is the only feature that helps disguise the plainness of her face, much like a smokescreen.

You feel like you have been wronged somehow, and it dawns on you that she must have used filter after filter, then went an extra mile and photoshopped the already overly-filtered photos. It's painfully apparent that the bone structure of her face was altered much like virtual plastic surgery; and at the stroke of midnight, this human turned back into a mutated pumpkin. To you, this feels like a moment that has devolved and is like an episode of the Twilight Zone or a nightmare where you dream a monster is after you, but your feet feel like cement and refuse to budge, and because of this, you know that imminent death is upon you. You are shook. And even begin to tremble in fear a little. You have the simple misfortune of being aware of this blighted elephant in the room. You think to yourself, if only they made filters for people's souls. You also feel by the end of this; I'm going to need a filter for my soul. You try to remind yourself that it's very superficial to judge someone solely on looks. It's wrong of you to be so hard on another woman—especially someone who has made two cute little humans with their body. The aftermath is bound to bring about some battle scars and body problems. You've heard she has had some struggles and didn't always take care of herself. There was a time when she was severely overweight, weighing in at 165 pounds, which may not seem like much, but was for her tiny frame. She had lost the weight, but because she was heavier her gait had permanently changed. People noted that her walk was more of a waddle, accompanied by a noticeable hunch. Your eyes have now had a first-hand account of her awkward “duckwalk”.

Moreover, the oddity of this moment is not lost on you. There is some humor in this first encounter. I mean, seriously, how can this woman not hang her head in shame over being this fake. But alas, you are by no means some stunning supermodel. You are fully aware that your physical appearance is teeming with flaws, as well. Through your astute observation, having quickly assessed the trainwreck before you, you feel like you need to check yourself and your meanness. Shame on you! The feminist in you says women hating on women is not your modus operandi, but you're still taken aback by the bait and switch of this misshapen, troll-like figure that stands before you. You feel befuddled, dumbfounded! You feel as if you've been duped by a long con. You are conflicted. Your stomach starts to turn- your gut tells you there is something exceedingly amiss about this situation. This is catfishing, damn it! All these thoughts are transpiring within your brain cavity as you try not to betray yourself by remaining impervious to the presence of this stubby troll. This is a head-scratchingly, stupefying, beyond strange encounter that you will never look back on with relish. You're certain that when you go home, you will need a “Silkwood'' kind of shower with a very strong whiskey sour to drown out the ickiness you are feeling right now. You think about how gross it is that the two of you have shared the same man and you try to compartmentalize where your boyfriend has put his dick. You think the most unkind things like, men will fuck anything; what's wrong with my boyfriend that he would actively want to put his dick inside such a crusty human? Other men have cheated with this woman, including my boyfriend. It was like “boomerang” cheating; men would round back for another go at it, fight over it, only to have their foolish hearts stomped on, their property and spirits broken by this tiny hag. You thought she would surely look like Helen of Troy and yet men have fought to be balls deep in that? Finally you think, what makes her so special? Sure, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but the consensus was this bitch hails from Hagsville, so there must be a depth of manipulation to her that you could not see with your judgy eyes, an allure that you didn't understand.

The appearance of this woman alone is not the only thing that is unnerving about this situation. The sordid history she shares with the person you love is also notably unnerving. You've heard the resounding collective warnings from numerous parties about what a crazy and sinister human she is. You've heard about the numerous DCFS calls made against her and understand that she has been a substandard mother. You've heard about her cheating on every man who has ever loved her and how she uses men and her children as pawns to further her own self-serving agenda. Loyalty is not her strong suit. This woman has demonstrated a need to dominate the relationships around her. She has stalked your boyfriend's past relationships, actively trying to dislodge these women from his life in an effort to keep him within her control. You wonder if she will target you next. You wonder why your boyfriend is so easily controlled and duped by a woman who has been so detrimental to himself and his little boy. Does it stem from love or fear on his part? Perhaps he is just weak-willed and a part of him enjoys the toxic cycle of abuse. That is all he's ever known for all of his adult life; why would he want to let go of that constant predictable pattern and establish new boundaries? The thought crosses your mind, perhaps that relationship cradled him and in some perverse way, he knew deep down he could always depend on it. You also wonder how such a woman can breed so much misery in the lives of so many people. Furthermore, you wonder if this woman is potentially suffering from a personality disorder. You are intrigued by the dynamics, and because of this intrigue, you feel compelled to stay.