One of the things that goes out the window when you get married is beauty—at least for me. I can’t remember the last time I got a pedicure. Must’ve been at least two months ago. Don’t get me started on manicures. I cannot stand my hands being idle or not being able to read a magazine…so I stopped getting manicures years ago. I used to get pedicures on a regular basis—in the Marina every other week. Not anymore. Maybe I shave my legs once a week. Maybe. As for brazilians…never again.
I used to tease Dean, “Would you still love me if I get really really fat?” And he’d say, “I’ll still love you and I’ll just aim for the middle.”
Women can become obsessed by their beauty regimens. I used to be one of them. Mani/pedis, facials, brazilians. Truth is, men don’t give a hoot! As long as you’re confident and love who you are, they could care less if your butthole’s bleached. Now ain’t that the strangest beauty fad that has come out recently? Who would’ve thunk.
Don’t get me wrong. I still like getting dressed up and dolled up for my man, but it’s all that unnecessary crap that got cut out. Perfectly fine by me.
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