C6 Chapter 6

Perhaps I wasn't as infatuated with him as I thought. You know, all I wanted was to be married and stable. He appeared to be the ideal man. He has decent but not spectacular looks. He was kind to me and did an excellent job. Although the sex wasn't great, you know it was consoling as well? Like, maybe I wouldn't have to worry that I wasn't enough for him if he was a true dynamo in the sack. I was confident that he wouldn't cheat because he was just mediocre.

In the increasingly silent kitchen, that final sentence was met with silence. The truth was that he had cheated, even on a showgirl.

She complained, "I'm destined to be alone for the rest of my life," and then shoved a large piece of bacon into her mouth.

After being fed and checked on by her pals, Peyton was left alone once again. She took a seat with her laptop and confronted her worries. She saw the video that she had brought up.

Indeed. Even though it was just as embarrassing as she had anticipated, there was something unsettling about what she had told the world. Why should all of the world's women put forth so much effort to find partners? In the realm of animals, it is not how things operate. Within the animal kingdom, males have to adopt certain stances and grooming techniques to attract the interest of females. Consider the peacock, for example. Those peahens were skilled at playing it. They didn't style their hair or apply cosmetics, they didn't follow a diet, and they didn't fit into those absurd spandex corset-like devices that were presumably created by men in order to enhance their figure. Instead, those dull-colored peahens would walk around, waiting for the male to approach and astonish her with his feathers. It was his job to win her over, not hers.

How about lions, then? To get the female's attention, the men engaged in combat with one another. She wouldn't even look at them unless they proved their virility. As opposed to the human world, where women fought for guys who weren't even worthy of their attention. What on earth had occurred to cause everything to become skewed? Why was it suddenly the woman's responsibility to pursue the man? It seemed unfair, that's all. She needed to constantly prove herself to him in order to maintain him, in addition to doing all in her ability to get his attention. And for what purpose? The sex was just not worth it, really.

Peyton perused the remarks. It hurt that so many males were making fun of her. Granted that she was inebriated and not looking her best, some of the remarks were downright nasty. And it did nothing except support what she said. Were these men, who were telling her how unattractive she was and assuring her they wouldn't waste their time, perfect? No. A few of them were blatantly—

No. That was not how she was going to think. Wasn't the whole point of her argument that appearance shouldn't matter?

Rather than subjecting herself to the inanities of these males, whose insecurities were clearly a mile wide, she chose to read the comments made by the ladies. While there were undoubtedly some nasty bitches among them, many of them shared her anger. These women were aware of the difficulties of living up to everyone's expectations. You needed to have a high-paying work, be slender and gorgeous, and be a home goddess. You were a loser if you didn't check every box. In some way, this did not apply to men.

Leaning back in her chair, Peyton studied the screen. She had grown weary of attempting to please everyone. She was at a loss when she had taken care of herself alone. Keeping Dale pleased and preparing for her impending marriage had been her life's focus. Prior to that, she seemed to have been constantly searching for the ideal mate, which necessitated being the ideal twentysomething, dressed appropriately, and visible in the appropriate locations. For the most part, she hadn't relished even a moment of it. There was always that undercurrent of desperation that she would never acquire any of it and that she had to get it all by the time she reached twenty-nine.

She was done, then. She rewatched the video while keeping her eyes closed and focusing solely on her speech. For her, it was a revelation. Perhaps she shouldn't have made such a broad statement in such a visible manner, but she stood by the idea that drove her inebriated digression. She had had enough of attempting to be the ideal woman. She'd had enough of trying to win men over. She had had enough of love.

Pushing off of her chair, Peyton rushed toward her bedroom. She pulled open her closet and gazed at her clothing. She began removing everything and arranging it in heaps. a pile to retain and another to toss. An item of clothing was discarded if it didn't make her feel good about herself. Anything that was difficult to wear was thrown away. Instead of saying she was going to be a slob, she stated in the video that she was going to dress for herself. No matter what the latest trends said, she was going to do what made her happy. Sweaters and yoga pants were required. It meant baggy clothes and comfortable shoes. It meant being at ease with her own flesh.

She started with her clothing and then her shoes. Her shoes had taken up a significant amount of her paychecks. She was in love with some of them, but others made her toes curl thinking of the pain she would be in in less than an hour. The shoes were also divided into two heaps.

She rolled over and went to her drawer of underpants. G-strings God, I'm so sorry! Who had ever figured it was a good idea to have a small string in your butt? All to avoid having a panty line that is apparent to the VPL. Peyton chucked them first since she'd never found a comfortable g-string to wear. Did it really matter if someone saw that she was wearing underwear underneath her clothes? She didn't think it was essential enough to want to endure the agony of having to wear a g-string every single time. The bras came next. She wasn't quite ready to commit to VN-visible nipples, as much as she would have liked to throw them all out. Any bra that left a raw, red mark beneath her breasts, she threw aside. The ones that hurt or made her feel as though she was gasping for air were thrown away.

Peyton felt lighter when she was done and fell onto her bed. She was going to benefit from this. Fantastic even. A new lady had emerged. Listen to her growl.