Look at me, what do you see?

I am walking with my three kids through a city park. I’m exhausted. I have stains on my clothes from my kids, and I haven’t showered in days. My hair is a mess. I have no makeup on, and I’m just wearing my normal sweatshirt and sweatpants, the mom uniform.

A man is walking towards us, and he sees me. He actually looks at me and sees me. He sees that I am a good mother, that I love my children and I do everything I can to care for them. He sees how I give every ounce of myself. He sees how fucking strong I am. He stops and tells me to meet him at a hotel bar that night.

I’m shocked and can’t think he is serious. Why would he want me? I debate all day what I am going to do as the kids scream and run around the house. I go to the bathroom and look in the mirror. I actually look at myself, truly look at myself, for the first time in a long time. And as I stare into my eyes, the question becomes why wouldn’t he want me? I drop the kids at grandma’s and get cleaned up. I meet the man in the hotel bar.

He brings me to his room. There, he confesses how struck he is by me, how captivating I am as a mother, how I can give so much and be so strong. He’s awed. He spends the night worshiping me like the goddess that I am, like the mother that I am, the giver and sustainer of life, as the force of nature that I am. He sees the power I wield, and he loves me for it.

The next morning we wake up wrapped in each other’s arms. He smiles down at me, and I smile up at my husband, who finally saw me, truly saw the woman I have become since we had our first child, yesterday when we had planned to meet in the park. We order room service, and we plan how to spend the weekend as a family.