that Mum look

This morning, I looked in the mirror and I didn’t recognize my face.

I’m not even sure when it happened. Losing my face, that is. I mean it was there in 1999. It was there in 2006. It was even there in 2012. I may have lost it in Israel. Honestly, I haven’t checked in a while. Most mornings, I frantically throw on the closest t-shirt and skirt and just bolt. Lipstick is applied by looking at a tiny mirror in the car, or on the bus. I never look at the whole picture, really.

But some time between 2012 and this morning, my face, and indeed my entire look, went missing. Replacing it: The Mum Face. With Mum clothes. And a Mum body. I stood in the bathroom today and I honestly stared at myself for a full five minutes, not recognizing this boring ass woman. I was wearing a t-shirt with holes in it, baggy men’s shorts, and black flats. I’ve been wearing the same outfit for an embarrassingly long time because I a) work from home, and b) have gained 15 lbs, and don’t fit my own clothes anymore. My unwashed hair, which is greying unevenly, was plastered to my face, presumably held down by grease. I suddenly noticed the permanent frown line between my eyes. I had a mascara smudge under one tired eye, which accented the gigantic bags beautifully. Funnily enough, I don’t remember the last time I put on mascara. There was toothpaste on the corner of my mouth. Like, a lot of it.

And I dropped the children off looking like this. I talked to people. Dear. God.

So I guess that’s this summer’s mission: Find my face. Because this look isn’t working for me. I don’t look like me! I look like some sad, tired, and puffy version of me. When did I stop caring? When did I stop paying attention? Well, no more. My kids deserve better. My husband deserves better. MOST IMPORTANTLY I DESERVE BETTER. I know I’m not 25 anymore, but surely almost 37 isn’t when everything goes to hell in hand basket, is it? Not for this lady.


NOTE: Mums are beautiful in all shapes and sizes. This is not a slight on Mums. And this is not a post to complain about weight gain or aging, which is perfectly natural and also, it’s not like I’m enormous/old here. There are plenty of people with worse problems than what I’m describing, and I know this. BUT there is something disconcerting about not recognizing one’s face. I did not care for it.






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