“Well,” he adds, “except for your arms.” “My arms?” “They’re kind of flabby.” He wrinkles his nose. “But other than that, wow. Like I said, you’re the perfect woman.” Wait. My arms are too flabby? Did he really just say that to me? Worse, now I am straining to surreptitiously examine my bare arms. And why did I wear a sleeveless dress tonight? I have only two sleeveless dresses in my closet. I could have worn something with sleeves that would have concealed my apparently hideous arms, but no, I chose this.
Why do we women fall in this trap? A man will literally insult us, but instead of writing them off, we become insecure and blame ourselves instead.
