Sometimes it's hard to believe my sister and I are even related. Charlotte is a gorgeous brunette with straight hair and flawless skin. She's 5'8" tall with these perky D cups, and obviously the boys were obsessed with her all the way through high school and college. She makes friends so easily, because she's confident and fun. Now, she's 28 and happily married to an equally gorgeous guy.
And then there's me. I'm a geeky, shy, virgin. I wear glasses, and I've got wiry, curly hair that I usually don't do anything with apart from trying to keep it out of my face. I'm 5'3", skinny, with no tits, no hips, no ass. I had braces and horrible acne all through high school.
All my life, I've compared myself to Charlotte, which obviously has done wonders for my self-esteem. But don't get me wrong - I don't resent her, not even a little. She's always been wonderful to me, and we love each other to bits. But just when I compare everything she has to the very little that I've got, I kinda spiral a bit. Or a lot.
This particular tale starts when I was in the middle of one of those depression spirals. This time, I was particularly resentful of the fact I was 25 and still a virgin. The furthest I'd been with a guy was been making out while drunk on a night out. And I wasn't exactly in a position to meet too many guys in my job as a receptionist in a plumber's office - it's pretty much a phone- and email-only job.
It's not like I'm a prude, though - I have a massive sex drive. At least once a week I'll go to work in a dress and no panties, just for the thrill of knowing I'm one strong gust of wind away from being exposed. I'm constantly watching porn and getting myself off, even on public transport and breaks at work. I think my friends are sick of hearing me (half) joke that I'd be a huge slut if I just had a chance. It's just, being shy and without any confidence, I couldn't approach guys, and I'm always second-guessing if a guy is actually into me, or just likes me as a friend. So I'm kinda my own worst enemy.
I was beating myself up about all that one night over dinner when my mom reached over the table, gently touched my hand and asked "Em, are you okay, honey?" Oh yeah, did I forget to mention I still lived with my parents? Just another medal in the Life Sucks Olympics.
I looked up at her and it took a second to remember where I was. "Hmmm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just tired," I sighed.
"Come on, Em," Mom replied. "We know you better than that. What's really bothering you?" Neither of my parents could relate to how I felt; they were both really good looking, and got married when Dad was 23 and Mom was 21. They'd had Charlotte before either of them were my age.
I shrugged. "Same shit, different day, I guess."
"Language," was Dad's response, not even looking away from the TV. Funny how he was allowed to swear as much as he wanted, but it was still off limits for me.
I rolled my eyes. "Same STUFF, different day."
"Like what?" Mom nagged. This was already getting tiresome.
"Ugh! Like I'm a fucking loser who's never had a boyfriend and probably never will at this rate." I stared angrily at my plate, trying to stop the angry tears forming in my eyes.
"Emily, sweetheart, you're not a loser. You're beautiful and any guy'd be lucky to have you." At least Dad was paying attention now. Pity he was only talking in cliches.
"Yeah, you're right. That fixed everything. I don't know what came over me. Thanks, guys." I took a couple gulps of water and set the glass down a bit harder than I'd intended, causing a rather dramatic slam.
Now it was Mom's turn again. "So if it's bothering you so much, what are you trying to do about it? Are you on The Apps?"
"Jesus Christ, Mom, you don't need to capitalize it. No, I'm not on any apps. They're..." I sighed, exasperated. "They're not the place for virgins." Great, now my face was burning up with embarrassment. "Anyway, I'm sorry I brought it up. Can we drop it now?"
"I'd love nothing more." Dad was squirming in his seat. "But just know we love you."
"And if you ever want us to introduce you to any boys, you just let us know," Mom tried to joke.
"So long as he's not picky about where he sticks his dick, send him my way" was ALMOST my reply, but I'd already hit my limit of talking about sex with my parents for one lifetime. I just forced a smile and that's how we got through the rest of dinner. It helped that some politics story came on the news and got Dad all fired up.
Later that night, I was feeling pretty guilty about that whole conversation at dinner. I put my laptop down and went to find Mom. She was in their bedroom, doing some study. It was her last night at home before she had to go away for a week and do some sort of training course for her work.
I stood in the doorway and knocked. Figured I'd start with the obvious. "Hey, Mom. Studying?"
Without looking up, "Sure am."
I stepped into the room. "Just wanted to say I'm sorry bout before. At dinner." Like I had to specify.
She looked up, with a "go on..." look on her face.
"Like, I know it's dumb, but I compare myself to Charlotte all the time and she's just way more successful than I am, in everything. And then I see you and Dad all the time, and it's like, why don't I have what you all have? And..." I sighed and shrugged. "Anyway, I'm sorry for being moody."
Mom got off the bed and hugged me. "It's okay, sweetheart. I know it's hard, but trust me. These things have a way of working out, some way or another." She kissed my cheek. "You really are special and beautiful and your Dad and I both wish there was something we could do to help."
I know parents are supposed to say that stuff, but this time it did sorta help. Maybe I was just feeling extra vulnerable and needed to believe it this time. "Thanks, Mom. You're the best." I left her to her study.
I didn't see Dad until the next morning. He'd already taken Mom to the airport and was quickly finishing up his breakfast. He works as a builder, so he starts work pretty early.
"Morning," he said between bites of toast, not quite looking me in the eyes. I think he still felt super awkward about dinner.