“As long as my husband finds me attractive, that’s all I care about.”
This seems to be the mantra we wives repeat to make ourselves feel better about the state of our bodies as we age, carry children, and come to realize we just aren’t going to fit that Victoria’s Secret beauty ideal (even if we once did). It’s a way to take the pressure off me, but I think maybe what I’m actually doing is putting a whole lot of pressure on my husband.
It’s a lovely thought and I don’t want to discount the truth in it. I believe there are men who forever see their wives through Love Goggles and when she wakes up in the morning she catches him dreamily staring at her drool crusted face. Great. Congrats. But I am no longer the 18 year-old my husband fell in love with and I’m tired of pushing him to make me feel better about that. (And truth be known, I probably had the same amount of insecurities even when I WAS the 18 year-old he fell in love with.)
If I’ve gone through the time and work to pick an outfit I like, why do I then feel compelled to look at my husband and ask the fateful, “Does this make me look fat?” Why does that even matter? I mean, “Is my skirt tucked into my underthings?” might be an appropriate question, but other than that, why can’t I leave the guy alone?
This isn’t a defense of dressing in a way that is unflattering or giving up on your body, it’s just my encouragement to myself to be DONE asking someone else to validate me. Well, that’s not totally true. If I’m dressing for anyone, I might be dressing for my friends. They’ll notice how my shoes add a pop of color, how I tried something different with my hair, or how that top flatters my figure. This is what friends are for. My husband has the misfortune of believing when I ask, “Does this look okay?” that I actually want a critical, unbiased eye to give me feedback. Nope. My friends naturally understand that which eludes my husband.
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