Hot? Or not?

"So, is your husband really hot?" This question is posed to me almost every time I meet someone new or bump into old pals. "Is he good-looking?" I recently wondered why Attica/Fo.Co./college/swim camp/fellow world-travelers that knew me when (applying the appropriate "when" depends on the proverbial "who" of course) and people I meet in my new life as a full-time student seem to squeeze this question into conversation almost immediately. When I started to think about these questions (that to me seemed a little inappropriate and shallow) I began to think back on how I've answered said questions. How I answered them three years ago and how I field these queries now varies. And bothers me quite a bit.

Before I divulge whether he is hot or he is not, riddle me this: is physical attraction so important to us as mortals that we are willing to throw away the possibility for true love for the chance to have a gorgeous God-like human at our side? Do we, as the human race really want to out-mate our nearest or most hated same-sex rival? It is common knowledge that people secretly, if not openly want to attract a mate with good genes and blood-lines? So I suppose I understand why people ask me but why is such a high priority? To find out how handsome my husband might be?

So I ask myself: "why does this question keep coming up (in my opinion) very in appropriate times?". I took a hard look at my life thus-far. I looked back at every person I dated, every man I've dated and even every person I've ever been close with as just a friend. And I discovered something that shocked the hell out of me: I have always surround myself with beautiful people (and I'm not talking about beautiful on the inside here, I'm talking really good-looking people). It's almost like somehow I thought just because a bag of shit was wrapped up in a pretty little package it was no longer a bag of shit. I really took a look back and am ashamed of who I welcomed into my heart and soul based on how they looked and made me feel when I was around them. Ashamed. Ashamed for myself and ashamed for the people I possibly enabled into thinking their good looks could out-weigh their short-comings and shallowness. (And let's face it, sometimes people are just plain mean.)

I'm not admitting to being a bad person just that I was once shallow too. But I'm not anymore, I know who I am and surround myself with people that love me for that. Sue me.

Back to how I would answer the big question, a question I heard almost as much as "when ya gonna have some kids?". I would and have said the following...

-He's a bit different
-He's unconventionally cute
-It doesn't matter, he is the love of my life
-I'd rather not talk about it
-He looks good to me
-He's my soul-mate
-What does YOUR husband look like?

I now know after racking my brain for the appropriate and truthful answer is that and only that he is the only person I've ever known to take me fully for who and what I want to be without trying to mold Eileen into their idea of the perfect mate, friend, daughter, sister. He gives me my space when I need it. He holds me when I cry over stupid shit. He yells with me to do better when I know I've failed and need to hear those words to move on. In almost every way he lets me be who I know I need to be and is along with me for the ride that is my life. And I am lucky!

Is my husband hot? I have better questions. Is he a wonderful, uber-intelligent person worthy of your conversation? Are you worthy of his affection? I hope you are because if you fail his test, if your are shallow and unworthy of his attentions and mine, if he knows from the time he meets you that your only intentions are to take and never give then you will not have the pleasure, the honor of knowing him. Of knowing us as a nation of two. And we rock!