“I can’t wait to see you naked.”
Seven dreaded words. Worse than “I have an idea! Let’s go camping!” or “There’s a Star Wars movie opening today!” I hated those words.
Roger and I were engaged, and, unlike my first marriage, Roger and I were waiting until we were married to have sex. But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t a huge topic of conversation (and one of the main reasons we had a mere six-week engagement).
And I was excited to be that intimate with Roger. But if he ever thought that we were going to be in the same room, naked, at the same time, with the lights on, he was out of his ever-loving mind. I had a lot working against me:
- I’ve had two babies. Things that used to stay in place while having sex were certainly going to have a mind of their own. The thought of the jiggling, wiggling, and possible whiplash I could cause my future husband scared me.
- I’ve been overweight since I was three. We’re not talking ten extra pounds my first year of college. My stomach is no longer a smooth surface. Thanks to stretch marks, it resembles a three-year-old’s self-portrait. Not pretty.
- Gravity. Enough said.
Add to that the fact that Roger had been married before. He had someone to compare me to. Awesome, right?
So while I was beside-myself-excited to be married to Roger, I wondered if there was any way that I could go through our marriage sleeping in a Spanx full-body suit.
But clearly, Roger was having none of it.
Actually, that’s not true. Roger wanted all of it. About a week before we were married, I opened up to him about my fear of getting naked. “I’m sure you’re going to be disappointed in what you see.”
Roger told me that wasn’t true. He was excited to get to know me—even the parts of me that I felt unconfident about.
Because of this (and because I so badly wanted to make this marriage work on every level), I needed to figure out sex with the lights on. And I needed to get over my body insecurities that seemed to creep up every time I thought about being intimate with him. After we were married, we wouldn’t be getting away with romantic candlelight while we were getting dressed for work each day. Plus, I knew that a big part of having a great sex life was that I actually, sometimes, felt sexy.
How do we learn to be confident as the women God created us to be so we can be what our husbands need from us? And how can we stop the negative self-talk so that we can enjoy intimacy without constantly worrying about our performance
It’s hard. And trust me, I battle that negative self-talk (not to mention that ever-present gravity) every single day of my life. When I wake up, when I go to bed, when I am in the shower, when I am on the treadmill. But I’ve made a decision: This year, it stops.
Not the gravity, of course.
But the little voice that says I’m not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not hot enough. And so I’ve teamed up with my friend Erin MacPherson to start what we are calling the Hot Mama Revolution. And we’re asking moms like you to join us and stop fretting about stretch marks and instead, put on a new pair of cute panties and show our husbands the hot mamas that they married.
Our new mantra is “hot mamas aren’t afraid to show a little skin for our men.”
And a hot mama doesn’t let her insecurity stand in the way of her confidence.