I have a Mom Bod. And I’m not ashamed of the (more than an) inch that I can pinch around my midsection. Would I like to lose 10 or so pounds? Sure. But the softness of my belly, stretched and shrunk two times over, reminds me that I was allowed to bring these tiny people into the world. My breasts sag. My booty jiggles. And nothing quite went back to where it was before my body sheltered these growing girls. And that’s okay.
I’m not ashamed of what my body looks like. But I am ashamed of how I look in my clothes.
Seriously, I have nothing to wear. Nothing. Nothing that looks right on my body. Is age appropriate. Makes me excited to be seen in public. I feel like every time I go shopping, the shorts are too short, the boots are too high, the jeans are too tight, the straps are too skimpy. Oh, and the butts are too sparkly.
Or I look like my grandmother.
Needless to say, there is absolutely NOTHING for me to wear. And I just want to be fashionable. Is that too much to ask? Mid-thirties is NOT old enough to be school-marmy. Grandmotherly. Totally covered. It’s not young enough to be Bo-Ho shorty-chic, either.
I’ve been told that I am entirely too old for rompers.
And I feel like there is very little in between.
As a high school teacher, I’m often embarrassed by what some of the mothers (of teens) where to school functions. Not only am I embarrassed for the women, I’m embarrassed for the children. Mothers and daughters should not share clothes. And some of these Moms look like they not only shopped at Forever 21, they want to be 21 forever. And for some, they have really nice bodies – and skin and hair and style. But these outfits just don’t seem appropriate for the over 30 crowd. And for others, it looks like they are playing dress up.
I don’t want to go to my daughters’ school looking like I’m trying to be younger than I am. Or that I’m trying too hard. I don’t want people to giggle behind my back that my skirt (or dress or shorts) is too short. I also don’t want to look like I’ve completely given up. Which is what I find my friends looking like – oversized T Shirts and yoga pants/leggings/gym shorts seem to be a fashion all of their own. But I just can’t accept that I gave up my right to be fashionable (yet appropriate) the moment I acquired the title of Mommy.