The Pretty Mom

It’s a subjective term, but I tried to be a pretty mom today. Instead of my over-sized shirt, baggy jeans, bare face, and pulled-back hair, I decided against being invisible. For once, I took care with my appearance.

I’m not trying to catch anyone’s attention. I don’t know what I would do if I was ever approached by a man. No, literally, I have no idea – it’s never happened. But I know when I put my typical stressed mom costume on, I become invisible. I shrink into myself. I slouch, I look down, I hide.

Today I didn’t want to hide. I wanted to look out on the world, as an observer only, but first I needed armor. I felt a strange sense of freedom today in my pretended confidence made easy by simple things like clothes.

Have you ever truly just watched people? Some look right through you. Some see you very clearly when they catch you watching. I watched couples. I watched teenagers. I watched parents with children.

To those who never truly saw me, the expressions on their faces were fascinating. Most looked tired, stressed, simply unhappy.

To those who saw me, there was curiosity, appraisal, nothing more – for which I was genuinely happy.

As I watched people, I wondered how I seemed to the world, to the few who may be watching me as I watched others. For most, I’m sure my armor of make-up, attractive clothes, and the appearance of confidence allowed them to see what I wanted – a pretty mom out for the day. Were there any like me who saw past that? What did those people see in my face when I was unguarded for just a moment?