Dating Women Who Aren’t Beautiful

In September 2015 when I met Sonto at a social gathering I’d attended. It turned out we had gone to the same high school. She looked beautiful, I can vividly remember her blue dress and how the colour seemed to highlight her beauty. We began dating two weeks later, and as naïve as it sounds, I believed that it would be a flawless relationship. When it comes to relationships I keep them private and away from social media. According to my parents I’ve been single for several years, and I prefer it that way. It allows me to make mistakes in private, and only bring home the one girl I intend on marry (not the other way around).

“If you want to be happy for the rest of your life, never make a beautiful woman your wife”, said a line from the Harry Belafonte’s classic, If You Want To Be Happy. This line couldn’t be further from the truth, writes Edwin Mbugua.

A few weeks later and the relationship was absolute bliss — I had an intelligent woman, with her goals clearly mapped out. She even sang in church! What more could a man ask for? For the first time in my life I opted to date someone who was not exceptionally beautiful. By beautiful I don’t only mean “model thin” and “fair in complexion” but naturally beautiful, exquisite, graceful with an amazing personality.

The first thing that unsettled me weeks into the relationship was when she started talking about marriage. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when she showed me a sapphire blue engagement ring she wanted.

I also began to notice that she scrutinised everything; she analysed every word that come out of my mouth, dissected and stored in memory. I would say a sentence trying to imply or suggest a point, and she would argue back with the exact meaning of the words I used. It’s as though she was unable to judge or interact socially in a ‘normal’ way. There was even one evening where she sent 87 photos of herself in four hours.

I’m an avid Twitter user and always give my opinion on various matters. With that said, my tweets need to be taken with a pinch of salt. Several weeks ago I got into a “twitter storm” following a tweet I posted that offended the gay community

It got really intense and personal. Any insults you can imagine in the Queen’s language were hurled my way by thousands. But whether my tweets were right or wrong is a debate for another day. Several online article were written on my controversial tweets and I immediately knew that all hell would break lose the moment Sonto laid eyes on those articles.

When she eventually found out, we met to discuss the situation and as expected, she lost her marbles. She went into a fit of uncontrollable rage, shouting and swearing at the top her lungs. She too agreed with the people who wanted my head to roll. I was puzzled by this. I was under the impression that she would at least support me, irrespective of whether I was right or wrong. But this girl threw me under the bus so fast. That’s when I realised why all her past relationships had failed.

There was something unsettling about her, because two days earlier she had suggested that we buy a house together in eight months’ time and of course, move in together. “This girl’s probably caught up in a moment of infatuation”, I thought to myself. But then I took one look at her and she had a straight face that said, “I’ve started looking at houses on the internet”. At this point I knew she wasn’t the one and called the relationship off.

Three days later I notice on my timeline that she’s been retweeting all the negative tweets about me but I pay no attention to it and move on. I had filled my best friend in on what was happening as he was out the country at the time. But Sonto saw it fitting to send my best friend a message with a link to the article, obviously with the intention to drag my name in the mud. Needless to say my friend put two and two together, saw though Sonto’s intentions and called me to let me know.

Later during a conversation about Twitter with my mom, she mentions that Sonto had emailed her. This girl had the audacity to also send my mother an email with a link to the story, thinking that my mother would sympathise with her plans to destroy my reputation? I was beyond embarrassed to have been associated with someone who had it in them to be that malicious.

The most important thing was noticing the person behind the façade. And as the saying goes, “My hindsight is 20/20”. I literally tasted the kiss of Judas. I’ve learnt that just because something looks like what you’ve always dreamt about, doesn’t mean you have to be irrational and quick to get it when it’s at your disposal. Patience.

Writer: Edwin Mbugua