9 Reasons Why Moms Are Totally Hot So Stop Pretending They're Not
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become less self-conscious. I think that happens naturally with age, which is too bad, because I could have really used some of that self-confidence as a shy teenager who wore braces all through high school. Once I became a mom, I had so little time to worry about the impression I was making and realized how appealing being self-assured is. So it is ridiculous that society downgrades a woman’s attractiveness after having a kid. Stop pretending that moms aren’t totally hot. Being pregnant and having two healthy babies really cemented the idea that self-confidence is attractive. I mean, there’s a reason why “MILF” is a thing.
I’ve never considered myself attractive, at least by society’s standards. Growing up with images of the ideal female form and face in movies, TV, and ads can do a number on a girl’s body image. But with age, and discovering what I myself found attractive in people instead of adhering to a prescribed ideal, it became clear that being “hot” has less to do with how someone looks than it does with how someone presents themselves through action. Turn-ons include confidence, trust in one’s instincts, and respect for others, which you really only gain through respect for yourself. I display those characteristics more as a mom than I ever did in my single 20s.
There are other things that make moms attractive, unique to the roles they play as parents. Here are some reasons I think moms are totally hot, and why everybody should just shut up about how they’re not:
We Rock That Athleisure Wear So Hard
Stretchy pants and a pullover fleece mean we are DTF. No complicated zippers to navigate or snug shapewear to wriggle out of. My passion for comfort and vehemence for laundry allow me to get naked at literally the drop of an elastic waistband. (Unfortunately, I’m all touched out, thanks, and would prefer if we could just, you know, sleep.)
Babies In Our Arms Show Off Our Assets
Look at me, balancing a fidgety kid on one hip while reading the take-out menu because dinner needs to happen before the child goes ballistic. I am mother-slash-domestic goddess and if I needed to simultaneously burp a baby with one hand while shoveling dumplings in my face with the other, I could. Just don’t judge me for making a mess.
No One Can Resist The Scent Of Our 3-Day-Old Dry Shampoo
It’s true: the musk of unwashed hair is a powerful aphrodisiac. The combined smell of grease, exhaustion, and infant saliva (oh, like a baby never drooled on your head?) is nature’s way of signaling to my mate that confidence in the strength of our relationship trumps certain personal hygiene upkeep. This self-assured stance is what makes moms like me so desirable to our partners. (Right?)
Our Hips Don’t Lie
All my life I’ve hated my body, but when I was gestating a fetus for the first time, I saw my curves in a whole new light. I was built to breed, with hips that could accommodate a growing child and give way to an uneventful birth. It wasn’t my ass that was too big for society’s standards, it's that othe standards were too narrow. They didn’t take into account that my body had higher callings than appearing cellulite-free in a bikini.
We Clearly Know How To Have Sex
Though it’s assuming that all children belong to their parents biologically, chances are that the mom you see with a screaming toddler wrapped around her leg in the frozen food section has done the nasty at least once, resulting in said toddler. She’s no stranger to the deed. I can’t be the only one who looks around sometimes, and thinks, “Wow. We are all byproducts of f*cking.”
We’re Not Afraid Of Bodily Fluids
I have seen it all, from every orifice. This casual attitude towards grossness makes me a very welcoming, and forgiving, partner. I mean, I have my limits with what I’m willing to deal with, in terms of bodily functions, but we’re human and sh*t happens, and I can be a grown-up about it.
Beyoncé Said All Mothers Are Made of Sensual Velvet
We Always Carry Protection
All We Want To Do Is Literally Netflix And Chill
I relish the 40 minutes or so my husband and I take to the couch for our viewing time. So yes to “Netflix and chill,” but no to it meaning anything other than being on my side of the sofa with eyes glued on the next episode of The Crown.