Member-only story
From Hot-ish to Mom-ish
How I went from fighting my age to embracing it
I’m done with being hot.
Since turning 30, I’ve become increasingly aware of my dwindling hotness. I never really used to be hot, per se. I was hot-ish. Or maybe hot adjacent. In terms of the genetic lottery, I could have done worse. Ace to king, I pulled an “8”, which isn’t bad.
Before I became a mother in my late 30s, I had an athletic frame with short, powerful legs and thighs, a tiny waist, and toned arms. I have big eyes and a big nose and a small mouth with big lips. I’m not conventionally beautiful. My features seem too big for my face, but they’re all big in the same way. They’ve got a jolie laide, Anne Hathaway quality to them. All in all, I enjoyed being a reasonably attractive person through most of my 20s.
I’ve never put a lot of stake in my looks. I’ve always worn minimal to no make-up. I don’t do my nails. I don’t wear trendy clothes. In my 20s, I was comfortable with my looks but didn’t do a lot to preserve or accentuate them. It’s true what they say: you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone.
You don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone.
