The Cure for Loss of Confidence & Sexiness
I’m not sure how it all happened but I seem to spend an awful lot of time thinking about what makes a woman over forty sexy. It’s led me to the topic of confidence and an understanding of how they’re all intertwined. In other words, confidence is sexy.
How’d I figure that out, you’re maybe thinking. In a word, menopause. It ripped my confidence out of me and left me flapping helplessly in the wind. I got to experience what life was like without my usual bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed-can-do attitude.
It was worse than I could have ever imagined.
It was like getting up one morning and realizing you’re out of milk. You saunter over to corner store and boom, find yourself in the middle of a hold-up.
Gun to your head, a growling voice barks, “Your confidence or you life, lady.”
You scream and lunge for cover. You’re not fast enough. By the time, you get out of there, you’re battered, bruised, and broken. You count your lucky stars though. It’s just your confidence that’s shot to shit.
Or so you think.
It wasn’t long before I realized I’d lost more than confidence. It hit me one morning when I couldn’t even get the old Greek waiter at my usual diner to flirt. I mean, the guy flirts with hamburger patties but suddenly I was invisible.
I knew I was in trouble.
Then I committed the ultimate confidence crusher. I pretended to be someone I wasn’t (a teenage sex kitten, if you can imagine) and got involved with a guy who was infatuated with that person-I-was-not. And then I hated myself for being not-me, but hated him more for liking not-me. (Logic only a woman could understand.)
Then, out of the blue, I got my rude awakening. A friend called me up one day explaining that this “so called boyfriend” of mine had just tried to solicit her for some group sex. And did I know about this?
I looked at the phone as though it had just turned into a rattlesnake. I nearly screamed.
That’s when I realized, after a certain age (ie, forty), you just can’t “fake it ’til you make it.” In one fell swoop, I had lost my confidence and my sexiness along with it.
It was a fork-in-the-road moment when I got that the only way to get my confidence back was by accepting the new me—menopause warts and all.
You know the ol’ adage, “love the skin you’re in” (or is that a tagline for some product?). I had been trying to recreate the pre-pre-pre-menopause me and she just wasn’t there anymore.
I picked up the slightly worn purple snakeskin heels sitting side-by-side in their original box I had bought for my first date with the “so called boyfriend.” The strappy shoes looked so innocent, like two naughty schoolgirls sitting bolt upright, trying to cover up all the mischief they’d been doing.
The not-me had gone ga-ga over those shoes. But now the new-me, the real-me, knew better. They’d led me astray. They’d cost me a fortune. They hurt like hell.
And they were everything I wasn’t anymore.
I searched under a pile of dirty clothes and found the pair of eco-ergonomic-super-comfy-all-natural-orthopedic-type shoes my hippie girlfriend in San Francisco had convinced me to buy. I wouldn’t be caught dead in them.
Until now.
I slipped them on, a moan of comfort gurgling out of me. I bounced over to the mirror in big strides like I was doing a moon walk.
Strong look, I thought to myself, like I could command an army or walk a million miles without a whimper, or shop happily for three days.
Real shoes for a real woman, and damn-it-all, I’m that real woman! At which point, I began to feel pretty good about myself. And I even noticed a real-woman seductive swagger to my stride.
Which all goes to show you, if the shoe fits, wear it. Let yourself feel sexy all over again.
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Comments
I just stopped over to say “hey” and to let you know that I’m sorry for not putting you in my blogroll sooner. I feel like a schmuck.
Anyway. Glad I popped over. You succeeded once again in eliciting an audible laugh out of me. Loved this post.
So, I’m trying to clean up The Magnolia Diaries and get my menopause-perimenopause-I’m-fifty-two-and-loving-it-damn-it mojo going. Which is a long winded way of saying I’ve split my blog into two.
One of them is going to host all of my writing endeavors. The other is going to be the original focus of The Magnolia Diaries – over fifty and diggin’ it kind of thing.
Anyway. I’ve had my head down and learning a lot about CSS code, HTML code, SEO, Affiliate Marketing and all other kinds of stuff that makes me yawn.
But, I’m putting you in my Magnolia Diaries blogroll. K?
See ya. Thanks for the laugh.
Mags! I missed you! So happy you’re back. No worries about the blogroll stuff, just happy to hear from you. Love that you’re focusing on your fabulous blog. A little restructuring never heard. I’ll check in soon and see how you’re doing there. Looking forward to some spicy mojo stories from you too! pamela
Well, if I can figure out why my stupid blog won’t let me add any more links, then things will be spiffy and I’ll get you in the lights of the marqee very soon.
Stupid technology. You’ll be there soon, darlin. Till then.
Maggie
In truth, immediately i didn’t understand the essence. But after re-reading all at once became clear.
This post made me think of a guy I dated a while ago who took me shopping for a birthday dinner dress and while trying on the dress he said, “We can go get you a pair of shoes next, if you want, but I gotta say I think you look like a million bucks in that just barefoot.” Dreamer that he is, he actually wanted me to try to get away with showing up at the fancy five-star restaurant sans shoes. And this was not some long maxi dress.– came to above the knee. I ended up getting a pair of ballet flats, not before he made sure that I knew he thought high heels were a definite thumbs-down. And no he’s not gay. Just liked a natural gal. How refreshing that was!









Excellent article and one I can relate to in far to many ways.