How I know I'm not sexy

The realization came to me hard and quick yesterday.  

Like a ton of bricks being dropped from the sky.

I am smart, I am funny, I am good at conversations.

But.

I am not sexy.

Oh there were clues along the way.  Believe you me.  There were clues.  

Like when my dad used to tell me "Don't smile so big."

Or when I would have a crush on a cute boy and then he'd ask me if my best friend was dating anyone.

Or when I didn't kiss a boy all through high school.

Or when my brothers would introduce me to their friends by saying "this is my funny sister" but never "this is my cute sister."

Yes.  There were always clues.  But like any person who can't handle the truth about themselves, I for 25 years chose to ignore these clues and instead lodged them somewhere in the deep, dark abyss of my brain never to be retrieved.

Yesterday I could ignore the clues no longer.

The situation went like this.  I was lying on the couch in what I thought was a sexy pose.  Hubs was in the kitchen making a sandwich.  And because I was feeling particulary sexy for some reason, I made a sexy face to Hubs.  You know the face.  The "I love you, I want you, come here now!" face.

Hubs looked at me.

And then, in complete seriousness said to me,

"Are you trying to sneeze?"

And that was when I finally, absolutely, sincerely, genuinely, one hundred percent, without a doubt knew.

I am not sexy.

What this doesn't do it for you, Hubs?  HUBS?!?

(originally published November 8, 2011.  Still applies.)