Digital love

My husband, Benny, works in the music industry. He is an audio engineer at music festivals and night clubs. He works strange hours and travels often, sometimes for several weeks at a time.

He has been doing this since before we got together.

When we were young and partying, I LOVED his job. It had amazing perks – guest list to pretty much any show that I wanted to go to, free admission to music festivals, feeling cool – lol at that last one, but really, at the time, that was a valid plus. I loved living vicariously through his life – I thought he was so cool.

As the years went by and I became less and less involved in that part of his life and more and more involved in motherhood, I began to struggle with jealousy. He was still so cool and what was I now?

A mom.

I went to bed at 10pm. All I talked about was nap schedules and breastfeeding, baby carriers and diapers. I complained about being tired, about being touched out.

I thought that I’d become a bore; a nag.

I couldn’t help but think that when he was at work he would be surrounded by young, attractive girls in party mode. They were probably way more interesting than me. They were out having fun, trying to get laid, looking their best – and my husband was right there, in all of his coolness.

It was hard for my mind not to go there when I’d be at home alone, in bed, likely not showered, with a baby in my arms.

Before having kids, I knew that my husband only had eyes for me. I was confident in that. I pranced around our house in my underwear. I practically threw my sexuality at him all day, everyday. He would compliment me and flirt with me. We had an amazing sex life. Amazing.

We weren’t flirting anymore.

I had no sexuality to throw at him.

Our sex life was practically non existent. I was tired, touched out and honestly, sex was painful for me for that whole first year of being a parent.

No wonder I was feeling jealous – it wasn’t only stemming from his work, but also from our lack of connection as sexual beings – not only as parents. For me, sexual connection and intimacy is vital for feeling secure.

I needed to pull it together!! I didn’t want to start any drama in our relationship. Being new parents was hard enough.

Rather than dwelling in my jealousy or panicking about how I’d lost my intrinsic ability to flaunt my sexuality, I became proactive.

One night, after Nori had gone to bed, while benny was at work, I put on some sexy lingerie and took some selfies. I sent him a few and almost immediately was bombarded by texts from him, flipping out!

Screenshot from a recent sext thread.

I felt his excitement through my phone. I felt my own excitement. I missed this part of us. I missed knowing that he was wrapped around my finger – that my own sexuality could foster security in my relationship.

Why had I stopped doing this?

It’s not like this was my first time ever sending him photos like these. I’m pretty sure texts like these laid the foundation for our relationship!

Motherhood does not cancel out your sexuality, but it can if you allow it.

Now that I had broken down this barrier that I had created for myself, I could feel my jealousy dissipating. I had gotten my power back. I stopped feeling insecure. I wasn’t worried about girls at the club, because reconnecting in this way reminded me of just how treasured I was to my husband. I was giving him the attention that he needed again and I was getting the praise that I so badly needed to hear.

It was a win win.

That confident woman inside me was starting to shine through my tired eyes. I felt like a goddess – my husband would tell me that I was a goddess – and it felt good. So good, that I haven’t stopped sending him photos and I likely never will.

It’s sort of our thing.

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My husband and I call this type of booty shot, “cozy booty”.

As a proud nude sender, here are some tips and tricks.

  1. If your partner is at work or out with friends, send a text before sending that reads NSFW. Benny has definitely opened messages in front of friends and coworkers that were for his eyes only. WHOOPS.
  2. Change it up! Don’t always send the same mirror shot. Better yet, rarely send a mirror shot. Pick your favorite assets and highlight them. I know Benny loves my booty, so he gets those a lot. I have a few favorite angles that I have perfected over the years.
  3. If you are feeling extra frisky, send a boomerang! Seriously, the littlest movements or gestures running on a loop can be so super sexy! My favorite is to put my finger in my mouth a little bit. Try it. You’ll see why.
  4. Delete them off of your camera roll if you often scroll through your photos in public and don’t want people to see them. I’ve wanted to show my mom pictures of the kids before deleting photos more times than I’d like to admit. In fact, she has become so accustomed to the risk of seeing my sexy photos, that now she goes with it –  if she sees a nude, she just compliments me. My mom is awesome.
  5. Only send nudes if you enjoy sending them. No one should ever pressure you into sending them nude photos. It should be just as much a treat for you as it is for your partner.
  6. Make sure your partner is someone that you can trust to respect you enough to keep these special treats private (if that’s what you want).

Now get to it!

Drive someone crazy.

Radical Self Acceptance

It feels like out of nowhere, I’ve become a serious adult.

We own our home, we have two cars – one of them seats 8 people, wtf – we have two children and a dog. We eat home cooked meals, host bbq’s and birthday parties. Hell, we have a storage box filled with holiday decorations for every major holiday.

It’s crazy.

We are grown. ass. people.

I turned 31 this past April. I still feel like 20 year old me – maybe not as clueless and careless – but that same goofy person is in there. What’s different now, though, is that I have grey hairs coming in. I have wrinkles. My boobs sag. My feet are rough. I feel too old for some of my go to fashion choices and struggle to find myself in what may be more appropriate.

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It’s always a little awkward to be sung Happy Birthday.

I feel in transition.

Should I hold onto my youth? Or should I gracefully walk toward the inevitable?

Everybody is going to be crazy wrinkly one day. Everybody. No surgery’s or interventions can hide it all.

In terms of my own wrinkles, there are a few places on my face that really bring me sadness. One of those places is my smile line. How backward is that? This little mark on my face was formed by years and years of smiling and when I see it, it totally bums me out!

I’ve gone back and forth on the idea of injectables for a couple of years now. I have many friends who get botox and juviderm and they look fantastic, but for some reason, I have never gone ahead and made an appointment.

As much as I hate aging. I deeply want to change my own inner dialogue about aging. I don’t want to look at other people, and yearn for their youth. I had my youth, and I wore it well! I want to do the same for my maturity. I want to be a badass older woman with grey hair and wrinkles and saggy old tits and feel good about it all.

ENTER: Radical Self Accepance!

When I was a teenager, I struggled emotionally and was put into a group therapy called DBT. It helped me a lot and there are still many skills from the program that I strive to perfect in my life. One of these skills is called “radical acceptence”. To utilize this skill, rather than getting upset or angry about life’s inconveniences or disapointments, you acknowledge that they’re happening and accept the feelings they give you, good or bad, without judgement or reaction.

“GAHHHH! I am already late to work and now there is traffic?! WHY. ME!!” could easily be, “Wow. There is traffic and I am already late. I should put on a podcast. I hope they’ll understand at work.”

So, what does this have to do with anything? We were talking about aging…not anger.

Well, hear me out.

What if, when we look at ourself in the mirror, instead of feeling angry or sad or disappointed in our aging appearance, we instead accept it for what it is – a gift. Not everyone lives long enough to watch themselves age. We live in a society that practically demonizes aging and praises youth – other cultures revere their elders, not hide them.

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Worlds oldest woman, Emma Morano, who died at 117 years and 37 days.

I want to wear my age proudly! I have come a long way and I have nothing to hide. Instead of trying to prevent aging, my solution is to encourage aging gracefully through a few simple steps.

  1. Keep a good skin care routine, day and night with quality products, including SPF.
  2. Eat foods that nourish my body, to ensure that I receive all of the vitamins, minerals and antioxidants that my body needs to thrive.
  3. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.
  4. Get a good nights sleep. Our skin cells repair themselves while we are at rest – if you aren’t resting, your skin cells are going to look tired too.
  5. Embrace life to the fullest – a happy person, is a beautiful person – no matter the age!
  6. If all else fails, cut some bangs.

I will touch on all of these coping skills individually in future posts, as this leap into radical self acceptance can’t be accomplished simply by saying I’m doing it. I know I will still struggle. My hope is to share these struggles with you and that maybe some other people will join me in discovering and owning their aging beauty.

I love this quote from Coco Chanel; “Nothing makes a woman look so old as desperately trying hard to look young.”

True that, Coco.

Wrinkles, grays and saggy tits, I am still a fucking sexy bitch!