Check out my latest post on Moms Fort Wayne
My last post was about all of the things I've learned in my first 39 years on this planet. It's fair to say these have been insightful years. What's also fair to say is that this last birthday is the first one I've ever struggled with. Right now many of our readers are nodding their heads and saying "I get that. Just wait: they get worse." It happens to all of us at one point or another. We arrive at a point in our lives where we look in the mirror and think, "Who is that person?" or "I think I recognize her...maybe...who is that again?"For me, it all started the day after my 39th birthday. I was searching for an old photograph of someone else and came across a picture where I looked radiant. It was a snapshot of my mom and me at a Colts football game a decade early. I couldn't believe it. I didn't look anything like the girl in the photo. I began comparing her to my current Facebook profile pic (mistake No. 1) and was shocked. Then I began analyzing the old photo (mistake No. 2). Next I began comparing it side by side to the profile pic (mistake No. 3). Finally I began analyzing what had gone so terribly wrong (mistake no. 4).Before I knew it I had spun into what the Hubs is now calling, "the episode." A complete and total meltdown over the last year of my 30s. "The episode" seemed to come out of nowhere.I celebrate each birthday with parties, cake (lots of cake), cocktails (lots of cocktails), friends, family and even travel. When my mom turned 30 she experienced "the episode" and I vowed never to let that happen. I was proactive about finding joy in every birthday, regardless of the year. But there it was, an episode so great that it shook me for days, if not weeks. It caused me to take a hard look not just at the photo but at the person on the inside both at 29 and at 39. What I learned was that the person in the photo a decade ago was miserable on the inside. She was insecure and often felt like she was drowning in the paradox of choices before her. She was so insecure she didn't even know how pretty she was. The woman in the current profile pic? She is confident in who she is most of the time and she's proud of the choices and life she's made for herself. She's so secure in fact that when she sees a less than flattering attribute of aging she admits it and seeks out a responsible way to fix it. The big difference in my life today is that I have the world best husband and sonish who give me great strength and love each and every day.I've realized that I have a responsibility as a momish to set an example for my sonish. There's so much talk about the impact a mother's self image has on her daughters but very little about the impact on her sons. When we take ourselves out of pictures, hate the way we look, cry ourselves to sleep over the drooping, the sagging and the less-than-stellar complexion we only further emphasis the physical importance of women to our sons. By focusing on the physical attributes of ourselves, good or bad, we teach our sons to see women as "eye candy" before they see anything else.I'm not in any way suggesting we shouldn't take care of ourselves physically. We certainly should. If covering up the gray and adding a little filler here or there makes a woman feel more confident, I'm all for it — provided it's done for her not for the approval of others. When it's done for the approval of others, we set the example for our sons that women are objects needing approval rather than individuals who will be their equal. Conversely, when we demonstrate confidence (even on a bad hair day) we teach our sons to seek out women who are confident and will be their equal personally or professionally.Recognizing the impact "the episode" could have on my sonish has made me stop and be thankful for all that I have and all that I have become. It's made me look in the mirror and choose to see the good and look beyond the signs of time. It's my job to be a confident, strong, courageous female role model for him even on the worst of hair days.