Why Mom Bods (and Dad Bods) Rule
I’m over 50, and I’m not a male fashion model. I’m in Dad Bod territory.
But I look fine, young for my age, and I’m within 8 or so lbs of my ideal 162 lb weight. I’m working on getting back to ideal, because I was away five of the last six weeks, and hey, the food was good. You only live once, ya know.
I don’t like the gym, but I’m fit enough to have climbed a 14,270′ mountain right before the pandemic, and I can’t wait to go up again, as soon as I’m again within spitting distance of a Colorado 14’er.
I’ve lost 40 lbs from my very short-lived, historical maximum of 202 lbs. I haven’t had health problems (knock on wood), and I knew that I couldn’t keep that streak up at that weight, plus I wanted to look better, too.
I’m not going to define a Mom Bod, I’ll let you define your own body. You may have gotten softer, and maintained your overall shape, with a few new pounds distributed throughout. You may still be thin, but things aren’t what they used to be. You may have never been thin, but it’s harder keeping things tight around your curves. I don’t know. You define it. I defined my Dad Bod, above. It’s much less a Dad Bod than many other Dad Bods, but a Dad Bod it is.
A Mom Bod tells me something about you, and I feel it helps create a bond between us. It tells me we’ve both lived life, and likely raised families. We have a scar or three, from that bike crash, hiking fall, or stumbling into that damn bedroom dresser too many times. I can’t have these, but stretch marks and other clues demonstrate that you’ve been through the life experience of bearing at least one child. A bit of cellulite is human. A bit of a paunch tells me that you’ve enjoyed your travels, too.
I recall this conversation with my doc, who is about my age.
Doctor: “So how did turning fifty feel?”
Me: “Just fine, except I’m reminded more frequently of where my old sports injuries were.”
Doctor: “Yep. Welcome to the club!”
As I’ve written here, I think confidence is sexy (and confidence doesn’t mean that you have to be invulnerable.)
I certainly think it’s sexy when you have the confidence to own your body, its miles, and all its flaws that weren’t there so long ago. It tells me that we have the shared experience of life itself, especially the sacrifices we’ve made in lieu of working 24 hours a day to try and keep our bodies as they were.
Listen, if you HAVE worked your ass off in the gym to keep as close to your 25 year-old body as you can? Own it.
If you’ve got a slight Mom Bod? Own it.
If you’ve got an ample Mom Bod going? Own that, too. I just hope everyone can at least stay within the bounds of being healthy, it’s a good target to have.
Another reason for enjoying sex with those above a certain age is this- you both know what to do. Experience counts. Inhibitions are likely less. Sexual confidence is at its peak. When stuff happens- maybe that body cramp comes, or you try that new thing together and you fall off the bed- you’re hopefully experienced and secure enough to laugh at yourselves, and there’s more room on the floor, anyway. We’re also hopefully secure enough by now to express our desires, and let our kink flag fly without judgment. That’s all super sexy.
For all these reasons, Mom Bods are sexy. As I’ve said here, I’ve found extreme sexiness across a broad range of ages, but there’s something unique, that special bond with women above a certain age. Mmmmm.
For those of our age, young bodies may be fun, but they won’t ever displace the pleasure of being with someone who shares our life’s experiences, our imperfect bodies, the miles beneath us. Each of us going the extra mile to bring pleasure to the other, who especially needs (and deserves) a sensual distraction, a relief from the lives we lead. We understand each other, and only we can give this to each other.