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Wednesday, April 23

The Good Wife

It has been said many times that a mother wears many hats. Chef. Chauffer. Therapist. Maid. Teacher. Nurse. Hairdresser. Banker. The list goes on and on.

A wife wears many hats too. Friend. Lover. Supporter. Hood Ornament.

When my husband reads this he will say that I’m crazy but that is nothing new so I am gonna do what I do best and that is write.

One of the things that bothered me most when I was 80 lbs heavier is that I didn’t think I looked “good enough” to stand by my husband. Let me be specific. When you are married to someone in an administrative job in a public scene, you are just as much an accessory to that position as a DKNY neck tie. At size 24 I always cringed with a fake half-smile when I was introduced as the “lovely wife.” Because, well, let’s be realistic, I had let myself go. I was not being the best I could be for myself and my family. And it was embarrassing.

You may agree or disagree that appearances matter, that it’s what’s inside that counts. And as much as I want to believe this, the truth of the matter is that if you don’t feel good about yourself it doesn’t matter what size you are, you will not look good. There are plenty of people of all sizes that radiate when they enter a room. I wasn’t that person at my highest weight, I wasn’t me, so for the sake of this blog, please understand I am not saying you can’t be plus-sized and beautiful.

Now that’s clear, let’s get back to my story. Last night at a volunteer gala, my husband was told by at least three silver-haired seniors that he had such a “lovely wife.” For the first time in a long time I felt kinda lovely, and very proud to be at his side. I didn’t need the compliments of looking lovely for my self-esteem, I am a work in progress, and if I was Sophia Vergara’s doppelgänger I would find something about my body to bitch about. But I was happy to be lovely for him. That people thought he had something lovely adorning him, like a well tailored suit.

Do it for yourself!  We are told this over and over. But that’s only half the picture. I am not just myself. My kids and husband are me. What I do for myself I do for them. And once in a while when that is validated, it feels euphoric.

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