The Girl in the Movies

Her appearance is one of sheer beauty. Enveloped by the sounds of blissful music, her character appears on the screen, and instantly you know who she is. She is the girl. Not just any girl, but The Girl - the one that the man will surely fall in love with.

Everything about her is perfect with the exception of a few minor character flaws that are usually cute and always redeemable. Her eyes seem to glow as she interacts with those that surround her. Her words are genuine and kind. She laughs perfectly, thoroughly enjoying life. Her hair falls sweetly around her face and the light that casts in from the window does not reveal more imperfections but instead makes her beauty shine even more. When she meets The Man, their encounter is perfectly flirtatious, often void of awkward silences, wrong words, or misinterpretations.

In Joe Somebody, she is Meg Harper, a beautiful blonde woman who works with Tim Allen. As soon as she walks into his life, it is evident the role she will play. She is not going to simply be the Health Coordinator for his company, or the woman who encourages him during a rough time; she is going to be The Girl, the one who wins his heart. Her characteristics outshine the other females in the film. She is a woman who mentors teenage girls, a woman who does a “sexy” victory dance when she thinks no one is watching, and a woman who, when she discovers what she wants out of life, goes for it without hesitation. She shines. She breaks down the defenses of a hurting man. She is beauty. She is love. She is excitement. She is the woman I want to be.

And she is the woman I am not.

I’m not The Girl. If in a film, I’d probably play a side role -unnoticed, mediocre, imperfect. Sweet music doesn’t play when I walk in a room. I don’t always know the perfect words to say. And it’s a rare occasion when my hair lays perfectly, forming a frame for my face. No, I’m not The Girl.

I’m not always nice. I’m not always patient. I’m not always selfless. I lose sight. I lose beauty. And I wonder what in the world I’m going to do with my life. I feel confused, awkward, and uncertain. I’m not The Girl. I’m a girl. Some girl. One girl.

On Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend and I saw the movie “Because I Said So” and again I ached to be different. Normally, when I see The Girl in a movie, I feel a mix of 2 reactions – one being, “I can do that! I can become perfect.” The other being “I can never do that. I can never become perfect.” This time the latter seemed to prevail as I saw the beauty of Milly Wilder (Mandy Moore) displayed flawlessly before my eyes. I was acutely aware of the imperfection of my life. I hadn’t been perfect with David. I’d been hard to deal with - less than what I want to be, less than what I think he would want me to be.

But somehow, the longer I watched, the more I contemplated The Girl in the movies and myself. While sitting there, I came to this conclusion: I may not be her. She may not be me. But one thing is true of both of us. We’re both worth fighting for. We both hold forms of beauty, of life, of femininity. She is a picture of perfection, and I’m a picture of reality. Both are necessary. Both are beautiful.

I may not be “the girl in the movies,” but I’m the girl in David’s life. That holds a form of beauty in and of itself. I sighed, took his hand, settled in, and smiled. The girl in the movies has nothing on me.