Dear sir, - I read with great interest the letter from a correspondent who signs himself "The Seeker", in your last double number, and I enjoyed the letter; but it left me in the dark really.
I happen to be limbless owing to losing both my arms in a railway accident; but were I to say that any man runs after me for admiration of this disability, I should not be telling the truth.
I have found to my bitter sorrow, that it puts off many young men. For instance, the other night I went to a dance and wore, over my blue crepe dress, an accordion-pleated waist-length cape to hide my armlessness. My shoes were pencil-heeled gilt ones, and my stockings sheer cobweb hose.
I sat down quietly to watch the dancers, and noted that a very handsome man was eyeing me with pleasure. I was very interested in him, and it was obvious that he returned my interest, for he gradually moved nearer to me.
Then he asked me for a waltz. Reluctantly I explained my disability, and though he was polite enough to conceal his shock by saying, "Never mind, we'll dance just the same - your swinging cape will cover up your lack of arms."
I knew that he was merely being gentlemanly. We danced the waltz and he guided me, because he placed one arm behind my shoulders, and the other on my waist. It didn't look bad, as the cape hid it.
We danced very well together, but he didn't ask me for another! Proof, I think, that his courtesy to me arose from pity and not from admiration. Had I possessed both arms, I know that he was sufficiently attracted to me to have danced the whole evening with me; and who knows what it might have led to?
As it was, I was left with regrets, and he with a slight sense of embarrassment. Men like their women to be healthy and whole, not broken dolls.
There is something in the physiology in us ultra sensitive cripples to the thoughts and reactions of others. We have to take a back seat because we are not whole; and whether or not men realise it, the thought in their mind in seeing a pretty woman revolves around marriage and eventual motherhood.
What man in his senses would want to marry an armless girl? She must be dependent upon servants for every move, to pick up a book, to tune in the radio. Therefore as a sufferer, I am afraid that I can't agree with some readers' ideas.
I don't hug to myself the delusion that some man is going to prefer me to the next girl just because I am limbless. That would be folly. All I can hope for is that some day I might meet a man who would love me sufficiently to put up with a crock like me for the sake of mental companionship.
Even then he would have to be a rich man. No poor man could afford a wife who was helpless. Poor men need mates who will work side by side with them - and rich men can take their pick of the world's beauties; so what chance is there for someone like me? My only hope is that some day I might be fitted with artificial arms that enable me to do something, and not just look all right.
Like most cripples I look forward to the day when science can give us what Fate took away, but at the present there is nothing for me to do but to put up with my lot as it is.
Admitting that there are men who admire a touch of the bizarre in women, I contend that this bizarreness is compatible with loving a limbless cripple. A healthy normal woman, with a touch of the bizarre in her make-up can be attractive, but not one like me. Suppose I went for sleeveless frocks that exposed my scars. Wouldn't I look revolting instead of attractive?
As it is, all my clothes are designed to hide my deficiencies; and that, I think, is the wisest plan. I dress in quiet colours, so as not to draw attention to myself; and though I am always neat and dainty, I dare not risk a bizarre gown, dangling earrings, or any ornament whatever that may draw upon me first interested, and then commiserating glances.
I know the cost in pain that a woman can feel when she sees the first look of admiration in a man's eyes change to disappointment, pity and that slight touch of revulsion that even a charming manner can't keep from their eyes. When a woman sees this, she knows the depths of hell, and suffers terribly, although her lips might keep a set smile on them!
Therefore I say to all crippled girls, "Don't be led away by the kind-hearted men who profess to admire the limbless state. They are only trying to bolster up your pride and be a little kind".
It is against all a man's natural instinct to prefer the imperfect when the perfect is to his hand for the asking.
Men, unlike women, see only the surface. A woman in love sees beneath it; but with a man, appearances count an awful lot, and he wants to exhibit his mate with pride, not with excuses.
Trusting that this letter will be of interest to you.
Yours truly,
Olga