It pains me to say this, but I’m a hypocrite.  I don’t like to admit it, but I do try to be honest with myself when I can, and this is one of those times when, as much as it hurts, I should be honest.   Believe me, it does hurt.

Some of you may already know from this blog that I have been working on finding someone to date.  I’ve put my profile up on several dating sites and I’ve been perusing the boy buffet, seeing what’s out there, and hoping to find a tempting dish I can call my own.   If you’d asked me when I first started this I’d have told you that looks shouldn’t matter and, for me, wouldn’t matter.  I was interested in kindness and intelligence and wit.  A few pounds here or there wouldn’t make any difference.  I would have believed I meant it too.

I’ve spent most of my adult life railing against men who expected every woman to be a size six with breasts the size of flotation devices and perfectly sculpted bodies.  It was so unfair, I’d cry, that men were so blind that they couldn’t see beyond a few extra pounds to the awesome person underneath.  Why were women held up to such unrealistic standards, I’d whine.  Why were men so unable to see inner beauty and so obsessed with outer beauty?  Didn’t they know that compassion and wit and intelligence counted for so much more?

When I started my search for Mr. Right, or at least Mr. Try It Out and See What Happens,  I was looking for kindness and wit and intelligence.  It was only as I rejected guy after guy that I realized I was also looking for George Clooney, or the nearest equivalent in my neighborhood.  I wanted the guy with the six pack abs and the roguish grin.  I didn’t want the guy who was carrying an extra 100 pounds and looked like his most strenuous exercise was walking to and from the fridge.  I was, to my dismay, doing exactly the things I’d condemned men for all these years.

I guess, at last, I’m starting to see that I’m just like everyone else, and that I have the same prejudices that everyone else has.  I may not like it, but I certainly can’t condemn others for doing what I’m doing myself.  The only thing I can do is try and be less of a hypocrite and live up to the standards I’ve tried to set for others.

They say people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

Tonight, my glass house has a few broken windows.