I am a Bombshell. I’m not a celebrity with the perfect hour-glass figure and I don’t stalk down the runway wearing gossamer wings. I’m a mom of three young children, which means most mornings I throw my hair up in an elastic band, pull on my favorite pair of jeans, some boots, and a sweatshirt from my kids’ karate studio to walk them to school. My husband still thinks I’m the hottest thing to hit the scene. As well he should. Those favorite jeans hug my booty in all the right ways and that ponytail, well, let’s just say he’s got fond memories of it.
In my house, the kitchen counter is for more than just chopping vegetables. My sexuality isn’t confined to the bedroom or date nights; it is part of my everyday life.
I am a Bombshell. I love myself in the truest sense of the word. I love myself for who I am right now, today, and for who I hope to be tomorrow. I am a vixen clad in sweatpants and Ugg boots and a messy round of late night dish washing is the perfect excuse for my own private wet t-shirt contest where I’m always the winner. I can rule a night club with a pair of red high heels and pin-up style dress and I can turn heads at a school potluck in Converse and a vintage video game t-shirt. Seductive power shines from my heavily lined eyes the same way it radiates from the skin of my freshly scrubbed face.
Don’t get me wrong, I still have days where I feel less-than-stellar. When I’ve been slinging words at the computer screen for days on end and forgot to shower for one (or two) of them, or I’ve gained five pounds eating cupcakes while editing a book, it can be tough to find my groove. Sometimes, I get out of the shower and I see the changes wrought on my body by three pregnancies and the wicked gravity of age and think, “Can he really still want me?” But then I remember, I’m a Bombshell.
The reality is, ladies, that being a Bombshell isn’t about some fake notion of perfection. Bombshells come in all shapes, a variety of sizes, and every color imaginable. Your best friend, the president of the PTA, your mom, your sister, and you ARE ALL BOMBSHELLS. Whether you wear your Bombshell status proudly or if she’s waiting in the wings to be unleashed, bodaciousness is yours to claim.
So come with me, ladies. Let’s celebrate our minds, our hearts, and our bodies for the true beauty they possess. Let’s talk about how we share that beauty with our lovers, our husbands, and ourselves. From introducing your new man to your secret kinky desires to what to do after the honeymoon phase is over to reigniting intimacy after childbirth, we’ll let it all hang out. Relish the time we have in this extraordinary female form, for ours is a life like no other. I am The Bombshell Mommy…and SO ARE YOU.
“The Bombshell Mommy” is written by Abigail Blank, romance author and mother of three. Frozen Heart and its sequel, Melted Tears, are published under her pen name: Annabelle Blume. Got a question about how to juggle it all and still be a Bombshell? Email Abigail at firstname.lastname@example.org, connect with her on Facebook, follow her on Twitter @Bombshell_Mommy and look for her on Pinterest.
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