Contributed by A. Buchanan-Henry

A few weeks ago, I had the absolute pleasure of being home alone for an entire weekend. This might not be a big deal for most, but to a forty-something-year-old mother of a five-year-old boy who is always pulling, poking, feeling, and demanding my time and attention in some way or another; and the wife of a man who can’t find a single thing on his own, even when it’s right under his nose, two days without them, love them as I do, was heavenly.

I knew this priceless moment would not last forever, so I embraced it. I made full use of it and did what any self-respecting, overworked, totally exhausted woman in my position would do – absolutely nothing. My bed became my sanctuary; only the unwelcome calls of nature and the need to satisfy hunger pangs possessed the power to drag me from it.

I was not going to allow anything to divert me from this much-needed temporary distraction from the unwanted rigors and routine of my everyday life. I instructed those who were mine to call only if it was an emergency, turned off my phone’s internet, and with that, the countdown began.

Wonderful! That is all I can say.

Wonderful – the freedom to control the TV remote and watch what I wanted to.

Wonderful – not having my silence interrupted by words.

Wonderful – just to be in my own company.

I basked in the freedom to go without clothing, and that was especially wonderful since I couldn’t rid myself of the menopausal hot flashes. Well, it was  wonderful until I caught my reflection in the living room mirror with the full advantage of daylight.

I honestly wish I hadn’t, because I could at least go on deluding myself as I was, that childbirth and aging had not changed me much; but, here I was looking at this … ‘configuration’ of body parts that were either drooping, stretched, flattened, softened, or increased in unflattering volume. My thirties body or even early forties, as I knew it before matrimonial and baby duties started to suck my every minute, no longer existed.

I felt extremely embarrassed, not just because the image in front of me testified to the lack of self-care (how could I even find time for such luxury when all my time and attention belonged to someone else? Whatever little I could spare myself was only for the absolute necessities, and even then, it had to be rushed. I can’t even afford myself the time for the ‘pleasure’ of being sick. It’s no wonder I had not seen myself in years). My embarrassment came from the sudden consciousness that while I was wasting away overworking and underresting, my spouse of two decades has had a front-row seat to my ongoing unflattering transformation, or should I say, deterioration.

I couldn’t help but wonder if I was a disappointment to him. Do men expect women to maintain the same physique that had attracted and ultimately played a part in roping them into the relationship, regardless of time and changes in circumstances?

In a world that has become increasingly vain in its focus on what is important, where much emphasis is placed on physical beauty; a world that conveys the message that youthful, slimmer, toned women are more beautiful than a woman who has emerged with many ‘scars and scratches’, a testimony to their selfless dedication to holding down the familial fort.

As a woman, I desire to present the best version of myself, always, whether physically or otherwise, but I know it is easier to showcase to the world at large the prettier side of oneself. There are cosmetics to transform the “Beast into a Beauty”, girdles, and padding that can tuck in one area and add volume to the next, creating something that is visually perfect. We upload pictures to our social media pages that are filtered, to present us with the best of everything; hair, skin, smile, and figure.

Women parade their fake physical beauty every day in one way or another for others to see, but when it comes to our spouses, who see us up close and personal; the one we always want to be sexy for, how do we disguise the all too noticeable wear and tear of a body that has been here for a while? One that has given life and pleasure. A body that now sports stretch marks and varicose veins; breasts that droop and an ass that sags?

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