As long-time readers can attest, I was a late bloomer. Bullies who teased me for being different, my extremely awkward teen years, and a mixture of social ineptitude and general naïveté — combined with a first boyfriend who would tell me things like, “You’d be hot if you lost some weight” — led to my having very, very low self-esteem up to my early twenties.
Then came the summer of 2001. I had just broken free of the aforementioned relationship. I joined a gym and toned up. I was finally able to develop my own sense of style and began to favor form-fitting clothes in lieu of the baggy oversized t-shirts which had hidden my figure for the first two decades of my life.
There was a moment that summer, as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, that I finally admitted to myself, “Hey, I’m not so horrible-looking.”
I can still vividly recall the very first time a guy hit on me at a bar. I had earlier noticed the handsome stranger who sat at the table next to mine, and I couldn’t believe my luck when he sauntered over and offered to buy me a drink.
He had chosen me — over all the beautiful, skinny, scantily-clad girls in the room!
I soon partnered with my best friend, who had also recently gotten out of a long-term relationship, and began to visit the bars and clubs in NYC Koreatown — where we knew we would not be carded, as we were still just shy of legal drinking age — more frequently.
Sometimes we would hit the bars 3, 4 times a week. And did I mention that my friend is a gorgeous babe who used to model? (Another reason for my low self-esteem: I have very attractive girlfriends.) I can’t remember a single time we went out — just us two — when we didn’t get approached by guys.
Soon, we grew cocky and even started going out without cash, confident that we’d find guys who would buy our drinks for us. (And we always did.)
New York Asians may remember a Korean club called MK. I’ve been to that place WAY too many times.
I would say that this was the period in my life when I felt the sexiest. I know that feeling sexy shouldn’t depend on attention from the opposite sex, but for me — a quiet, nerdy girl who had just gotten out of her shell — it did.
