Has Motherhood Stolen My Femininity?

So I’m at a birthday party for one of my son’s friends, and as we enter the room and I take a look around, I immediately want to go back home. Most of the other moms have actually made an effort to look nice. They’ve dressed a little fancier, they’ve styled their hair, and almost all of them have put on makeup. MAKEUP! What a concept! Foundation! Eye shadow! Mascara!

Why didn’t I think of doing this?

I suddenly become keenly aware of…

… the sour scent of spit-up on my nursing blouse (I swear it wasn’t there when I left the  house.)
… my skimpy and unmascara’d eyelashes (I DO own mascara somewhere…does it matter that it’s two years old?)
… my chipped toenail polish (Hey, it shows I made an effort at one point, right?)
… the lack of jewelry on my person (My 5-month-old adores dangly jewelry; she loves YANKING it and then shoving it in her MOUTH.)
… my too-baggy “mom” jeans (I’m actually a bit tickled about this one. I haven’t weighed this little since I was in high school. But still…the saggy-butt look isn’t flattering.)

It feels like there’s a glaring spotlight on all my shortcomings…and a not-so-subtle feeling of self-pity sets in.

Becoming a mom has forced me to re-evaluate what it means to be “feminine.”

Don’t get me wrong. I am not among a crowd of diva moms. These are perfectly normal, down-to-earth (some even “earthy”) mothers. Nobody is trying to impress anyone here. They are all the nicest people ever. My embarrassment stems not from me trying to keep up with any of them; it comes from the New Me mourning the loss of the Old Me.

To be clear, the Old Me never bothered getting gussied up for any affair either. I’ve always favored T-shirts and jeans. But the Old Me did have some girly tendencies. The Old Me would at least have taken the time to look just a tad fashionable, with a NICER T-shirt, a NICER pair of jeans, fun accessories, styled hair, and yes, makeup.

Now that I’m a mom twice over though, what little effort I used to put into my appearance has all but vanished. I wear the same T-shirts to sleep as I do to run errands. Sensible Saucony tennis shoes are my footwear of choice. And instead of (pre-motherhood) $80 haircuts, I now sport DIY bangs and quarterly trims from the local kiddie parlor. I feel more frumpy than feminine these days.

I guess the real question is: WHY am I missing my “feminine” side so much? Why can’t I just be comfortable with who I am NOW?

Is it because my disheveled appearance announces to the world that I can barely keep my head above water? I mean, moms who have it together enough to cook, clean, raise kids, AND have the time and energy to put on makeup and cute clothes are advertising to the world that THEY CAN DO IT. By contrast, my rumpled exterior seems to proclaim, “Look at me! I haven’t plucked my eyebrows in weeks and my shirt is permanently wrinkled! I CAN’T do it all! In fact, I’m failing miserably at this whole motherhood thing!”

And then I berate myself. Am I really stressed about hair, makeup, and clothes? It’s as if I’m inventing worries just for the sake of complaining. And such petty problems of the privileged, too! Besides (let’s do a little soul-searching here), femininity has nothing to do with cosmetics and fashion. After all, what’s more feminine than giving birth and raising two wonderfully healthy and happy children? Shouldn’t I feel content with THAT accomplishment? Well, shouldn’t I?

It’s a rhetorical question.

So I plow on. Each day passes and I still don’t buy anything trendy to wear nor do I find time for a self-pedicure. Instead, my minutes are filled with de-cluttering the house, doing self-propagating loads of laundry, trying to answer my son’s stream-of-consciousness questions about everything under the sun, and nursing and rocking and cuddling my daughter as she protests the arrival of her baby teeth.

And when it comes time for us to leave our little bubble at home and associate with the outside world, I wear my spit-up scented blouse like a badge of honor and lace up my sensible Sauconys, welcoming their familiar comfort. Right before we go, I take one last peek in the mirror, blink at my reflection, and say, “Good enough.” And with my two sweet kids in tow, I thank my lucky stars for their health and mine, and I start my day.

What indulgences have you sacrificed since becoming a parent? How does the “new you” compare to the “old you”? What sort of pep talk do you give yourself when you’re missing the “old you”?

Sophia
Zui Mom

Sophia savors all the joys (and challenges!) of family life with her husband and two kids in San Diego. Read more of her (mis)adventures in mothering at MamaSayMamaSo.