I have two daughters and I feel this acutely. My youngest, a five and a half year old, uses the term “my big, soft mama” with the utmost warmth when she is her most affectionate self. While my old demons push me to cringe, there is a large part of my heart that lives for that moment... complete love not in spite of, but because of my body. If she remembers when she is super cool and older, and I am even softer and old, that I was “her big, soft mama” and that I relished in it, well then, I have done something good.
I have two daughters and I feel this acutely. My youngest, a five and a half year old, uses the term “my big, soft mama” with the utmost warmth when she is her most affectionate self. While my old demons push me to cringe, there is a large part of my heart that lives for that moment... complete love not in spite of, but because of my body. If she remembers when she is super cool and older, and I am even softer and old, that I was “her big, soft mama” and that I relished in it, well then, I have done something good.