On Being a MILF

I am a MILF. This is not something I discovered or some cult I chose to join, but for the past five years, since I gave birth to my daughter, I’ve been called a MILF by more people I can remember.

I think it’s flattering, being a MILF. I suppose the inference is that most women “let themselves go” after having a child, or even if they were childless, wouldn’t fit the “ILF” factor. I’m happy men still “ILF” me.

After I had my child, my Mom made a huge deal about keeping my figure, putting on my face and staying attractive for my (STILL) husband. Archaic and old school. I love her, but she’s given me some serious vanity issues. I did get my figure back rather quickly and I would never leave the house without my face on–unless I am running to the store and in that case, it is huge sunglasses and lipgloss but I did keep up my appearance after the baby. For me. Not for my Mom and not for my (STILL) husband. I had no idea exercising, lipstick and tight jeans along with my slew of tattoos would catapult me into this new category–MILF.

Being a MILF is fun. I love the smiles and looks I get as I walk with my daughter through the grocery store or on our “Girls Night Out” every Friday when we go out for dinner and a little shopping. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be a Plain Jane Mom, but I can’t really imagine, because since adolescence, I haven’t been a Plain Jane. I started wearing winged eyeliner when I was fourteen years old, for Christ-sakes! Coloring my hair when I was fifteen. I didn’t have much money for fashion, but my friends and I swapped and we all made it work.

But I digress. I love men who love that I’m a single Mom and embrace the fact that I can still be hot, still be wild and still be a Mom. I haven’t met one man yet, since I’ve been dating again (it hasn’t been so long, I’ve only been separated for a year and two months, plus the cancer and shit) who has had a problem with my single Mommyhood and if he did, well, it’s curtains for him.

Though being a MILF is fun and flattering; it can be lonely. I have good old friends who went on to become MILFs themselves and I love them, but our kids are one or two years apart and that brings in a whole new type of Mom…The School Mom.

Maybe I’m paranoid. Maybe I’m aloof, but I can’t help but feel that the school Moms judge me. They don’t say hi or keep me in the “know” about Mom things like swimming lessons and play dates. They look slightly afraid on a hot day when I drop off my daughter wearing red lipstick and a t-shirt, tattoos blazing. Are they intimidated? Do they think I’m a bad Mom? A “Slut Mom?” (Thanks to A Buick in the land of Lexus for that terminology–maybe I’ll get more views now.) Are they afraid their husbands will be attracted to me? Kind of like I wrote in “Stay Away From My Boyfriend!!”

I’m nice. I’m friendly. I’m creative and helpful and most importantly, I’m a great Mom–MILF or not. I could never change who I am–a girly girl with great genes/jeans to simply blend in with the yoga pants, no makeup, please comb your hair mothers I see everyday. I swear, sometimes I want to arrive at pickup time with my makeup kit and do ambush makeovers like they do on the “Today” show. But, to each her own. I’ll still smile, give a friendly wave and I’ll do it all with my cat eye and tall black boots.

I consider myself lucky to be considered a MILF at all. There are two sides, however, and I wish one of those sides wouldn’t judge a MILF by her cover. Their husbands don’t. (Wink, wink…)

 

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3 thoughts on “On Being a MILF

  1. Love me a MILF, been married to one for 20 years. I still love holding the door open for my Queen when we go to the local pub for lunch on the Fat Bob and then I wait an extra 10 seconds or so just to catch all those blokes watching her own the room when she walks in and their all going “Faarrk! Nice!” and then “Oh fuck!” when they see me walk up and pull her bar stool out for her…heh, heh, never gets old. p.s.knew you’d love Samara.

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