The Roman Woman

Many men, especially American men, don’t realize that we Italian women love to be looked at. This is true in Rome, true in the Trastevere neighborhood in Rome, true on this little street in Trastevere, and especially true under this umbrella on this little street. Where I sit, content as a cat, especially when I’m looked at.

Like many women, I wasn’t always as attractive as I am now. Like many women, I feel less so as months and years pass. Do you men understand what we have to go through to appear to you as we appear? I chose a blue dress this evening because the cool color contrasts with my hair and the warm shadows of the umbrella. Why small pearl earrings instead of golden hoops? Do I love red wine? Of course, but for more reasons than the color.

Women don’t need to be admired, although that would feel wonderful. Adored? Oh my, yes. Noticed? Well, not quite sufficient, but sufficient for the moment. So thank you for noticing me, for your momentary attention. Forgive me for only one glass of wine on the table and for not glancing back at you.

For more thoughts and images:

My book ☛ Double Vision, Waking Dreams
My website ☛ JohnMichaelKeating.com