Yeah, it's that dreaded moment where a male writer tries to describe how a woman feels about herself and her body a few years after giving birth.
I should point out the woman in question is going to go through a bizarre change later in the tale that will totally alter her appearance and she will be examining herself both physically and mentally when that happens (I've not written that section yet) so there will be a point where she reflects on the moment below and that later moment.
But I want to make sure I write this as true to how women really would feel if they'd looked over themselves like this, and not fall for the old "how a man THINKS women would view themselves".
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The last five or six years had not been kind to her in many ways, physically and mentally. She no longer possessed the athletic figure of her youth, time trying to conceive and birthing and raising children did, after all, cut into any “me” time she would have had before deciding to have children.
But she was happy with her body as it was now, slim enough to feel good when she looked at herself in the mirror, even if her hair was all mussed up and scrunched up rather than brushed flat with product in it. She had somewhat gotten used to seeing herself with no makeup all the time. She wasn’t quite sure if she liked the odd blemish she saw, but the snoring lump in the messed up bed had always sworn blind they were gorgeous to behold.
I should point out the woman in question is going to go through a bizarre change later in the tale that will totally alter her appearance and she will be examining herself both physically and mentally when that happens (I've not written that section yet) so there will be a point where she reflects on the moment below and that later moment.
But I want to make sure I write this as true to how women really would feel if they'd looked over themselves like this, and not fall for the old "how a man THINKS women would view themselves".
-
The last five or six years had not been kind to her in many ways, physically and mentally. She no longer possessed the athletic figure of her youth, time trying to conceive and birthing and raising children did, after all, cut into any “me” time she would have had before deciding to have children.
But she was happy with her body as it was now, slim enough to feel good when she looked at herself in the mirror, even if her hair was all mussed up and scrunched up rather than brushed flat with product in it. She had somewhat gotten used to seeing herself with no makeup all the time. She wasn’t quite sure if she liked the odd blemish she saw, but the snoring lump in the messed up bed had always sworn blind they were gorgeous to behold.