There is 2 components that to me make up a thrilling romance. First, being considered the most beautiful by my man. Secondly, to make a positive impression on some sort of audience. Call it being spoiled, or personality glitch, but I want others to recognize and accept me as a respectable member of society. Not that I want to be famous. Not at all. But for other people to say, well, aren’t they a handsome couple and their children are so healthy too! That’s what I want. When something goes wrong with that scenario, I feel as if the carpet has been pulled from under my feet. One little deviation from the equation, – and depression results. When my daughter was born with a disfiguring birthmark, I could not just take her around and brag to everyone, look at my acheivement. She had something that made people look twice. That was not the pictire-perfect baby girl that I wanted to show off to the world. She was mine and I loved her in any shape she was, of course, but the sensational entry into society as a happily married woman who had her first baby after agonizing years of infertility, did not happen! We are in no way ordinary couple either. I am taller which to some women is completely unaccaptable. They simply wouldn’t even date anyone shorter. It was hard to deal with the stares, but love prevailed. I would not give up my love for someone just because we were not “ideal” by someone else’s standards. The hardest challenge of all has been to be able to stand on my own and claim our attractiveness. One more thing. I disagree it should not matter how I look to my man because we’re married. Just because I am, does not mean that I am dead.