There are so many things that are not natural bedfellows with motherhood. Stand-up comedy, i.e. my job, is probably at the top of that list. It requires late nights, constant travel and a level of selfishness that doesn’t quite vibe with raising another human.
Just behind stand-up comedy on the list of “almost impossible to do when you’re a mom” is “have sex”. And to be honest, I am much more committed to stand-up than I am to having sex (stand-up pays the bills and sex never has!). There are so many reasons it’s hard to have sex when you become a mom: exhaustion, body insecurity, time management, and overall lack of sex drive. And yes, I have TikTok so I know there is a very loud part of the mom population that has an active sex life and to them I say “You’re making me look bad!”
I am a self-proclaimed “retired slut.” I can say that about myself because it’s true and because I think slut is a compliment! But I am sure my very devoted and loving husband has days where he wishes he’d caught me before my retirement. When we started dating I packed away my high heels, cute thongs, and wild drinking and settled into retired life with sensible sneakers, giant granny panties, and one glass of wine with a puff of my weed pen.
As we laid on our sectional couch last week, not touching, we put on the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders show. I saw these twenty-something hotties strutting and dancing around and turned to my husband and said “I can do that!” I then proceeded to show him my moves until he noticed that I hadn’t even gotten up off the couch to dance. I was trying to seduce him while poorly dancing LAYING DOWN!
So yes, I wish I could combine my former sexy self with my current void-of-sex self but I’m busy! I have a packed schedule of working, cleaning, cooking, caring for my son while also watching every single show Bravo has ever created. And if there’s one thing that’s going to be taken off my heaping plate, it’s sex. I hate saying that because it makes me feel like a ‘90s sitcom mom stereotype. And while I love ‘90s sitcom moms and think they were right 100% of the time, I assumed I’d be more of a Samantha Jones than a Marge Simpson.
Once when I was pregnant an older lady, a Boomer, came up to me and we chatted about my due date, baby’s name, etc. and before she walked away she said “don’t forget about your husband.” And I thought to myself “Who!?” He’s already long forgotten lady! I got like 50 things I need to not forget about before I even remember he’s alive!
And as much as I am ashamed of this lack of sex, sex drive, and even intimacy, I am also slightly empowered by it. Empowered because for the first time since I got boobs (at 12) I now see value in myself outside of just sex or my body. I used to lead with sexuality and flirting and now I lead with “I don’t really give a fuck what any of you think about me or my body.” There is power in that.
But it’s also probably an overcorrection. It doesn’t have to be slut or retired slut. There’s gotta be a midpoint that’s more “this slut is out of the office but will be back next week to answer all of your emails.”
And I guess as my body starts to really become its own again after creating, carrying and then breastfeeding a child, the happy medium is really what I am looking to accomplish. No, I am not a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader but I am also not one of the mean nuns from The Sound of Music! (I like to think the nice nuns had some fun before deciding to marry God or whatever nuns think they’re doing).
Maybe being Marge Simpson isn’t so bad. She has 3 healthy kids, a husband who loves her, and giant blue hair. What could be better than being a beloved family baddy! So yes, this slut has been OOO but she’s returning next week.
Mark your calendar.