Yesterday, Blaine walked up behind me in the kitchen, and told me something so out of the blue that it almost made me explode.
“Babe. I’m so much more attracted to you right now than when we first met,” he said.
My first reaction as I stood there cooking dinner - EYE ROLL. Rolled those eyes so hard. “Ugh, stop.” I said.
“I’m serious!” he replied with a giggle. “You’re sexier now more than ever.”
Anger started boiling in my chest, just like the stew I was stirring over the stove. Steam started coming out of my ears, just like it was escaping from the pot in front of me.
I could have sworn he was trying to piss me off. Or antagonize me. Or play some mean joke on me. Because there was no way - NO WAY - in my mind - that what he was saying was true.
I mean, come on. Is he legitimately saying that my sleep-deprived eye bags are sexier than those 22-year-old bright green lookers?
Is he really saying that my overly loud mom-voice is sexier than those sultry single-girl sounds?
Is he truly saying that my saggy post-pregnancy skin is sexier than those perky pre-baby lady lumps?
Angry tears started to well up in my weary eyes. Thinking about all the things I was, and the things I am not anymore. How completely opposite and different things must appear now. How NOT sexy and unattractive and downright fugly I must be for him now, compared to what I was for him before.
I set the wooden spoon down and turned around to look at him. I can always tell if he’s for real by the way he looks at me - and it was very clear - he was being 100% honest. So instead of blowing up in emotional anger, I softly asked him, “Why?”
“Because. You’re a woman now,” he said. “You’re my woman.”
That’s all he said. So simple, but with such sincerity behind it.
And oh, friends. How his answer convicted me so much.
I just hugged him - so, so tight. And as we stood there embracing, it brought me back to a time - where my dad told me something similar about my mom.
“I tell your mom all the time,” he said to me as we stood alone in the living room, “I tell her ‘oh, punkin (which he pronounces “bangin,”), you look goooood.’ She doesn’t believe me, but I’m serious.”
“Those hips might be a little bigger - but they birthed my three kids. Those crows feet might be a little deeper - but they’re there because of years of cracking each other up. Those gray hairs might be coming out more - but they are signs that I’m growing old with her. Every changing part of her is mine. And I love it.”
I remembered those words as I stood there hugging Blaine. Tears streaming down my face. I realized I was comparing myself - to myself. And it was so. freaking. stupid. Because clearly, my husband didn’t see me that way. Every changing part of me is his. And he loves it.
We are so hard on ourselves, girls. We put so much emphasis on looks and appearance and the was-thens and the has-beens that we forget how amazing and cherished we truly are.
If you’re reading this thinking “yeah, well, I don’t have a husband who says those things to me.” Or “yeah, well, I know for a fact my husband wishes I was my 22-year-old self again.”
You need to know something.
You have someone seated at the throne of grace - who finds you beautiful, without blemish, without spot.
He knew your name - even before you were knit in your mother’s womb. He knows exactly how many hairs are upon your head - even all the gray ones. He cares about you and adores every little detail about you - even the details you think are flawed.
Every changing part of you - is in His hands. And He loves it. So, so much.
