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I’m so honoured to have the lovely Deepkickgirl pop over to The Good Girl Confessional today! She has a wonderful blog which you can follow at http://www.deepkickgirl.com. She is a writer, a mother, and a lover. Today she shares her thoughts on the term MILF! I love this and I’m sure you will too! The Good Girl.

I blush to admit that I only recently found out what the term MILF actually stands for. For some reason I thought it was something to do with fucking mothers-in-law and couldn’t quite understand the attraction.

Now that I know I have grown very fond of the concept and, when asked to write a guest post for one of my very favourite blogs – this here The Good Girl Confessional – I almost immediately decided to write about reclaiming MILF as a term of affirmation. I want to borrow, nay reappropriate, MILF from its porn roots (!) and use it as a term to describe women who are mothers, maybe even all middle aged women, who still like, love, crave, need and otherwise appreciate sex.

As a fairly regular viewer of porn I have no problem with MILF within that context (though it is undeniably a somewhat smutty, sneery, less-than-complimentary label for a certain genre within the pornography realm).
But I chose to use it to describe women like myself; women who are mothers but also sexual beings. The former does not negate the latter.

Women in their middle years find themselves defined as mothers, mostly working mothers, and therefore drab, tired, bored, totally child-centred and by extension sexless. There is a stereotype of the woman I’m talking about and her attitude towards sex. Within a relationship or marriage she tolerates it at best and actively avoids it worst. I have witnessed this dynamic in action amongst my friends and have found it sad.

I think what happens to a lot of women, and I am by no means breaking any new ground here, is that during the phase of raising small children the relationship comes last and women (and men) are often exhausted and generally bewildered.

Parenting and working are simply exhausting and sex and intimate relationships are forced towards the end of a long list of life’s priorities.
Then children get older and life gets somewhat easier but bad habits have set in and it is difficult to rekindle the sexual energy which was once so important to every relationship. I’m making gross generalisations when I say that often this is when marriages can falter because for some people it seems easier to run away, to follow a new infatuation, than to do the far harder work of re-energising the proverbial dead horse.

My own story is somewhere along this spectrum. At the age of 45 I found myself a single mother after a 20 year relationship. I had not realised we were unhappy, certainly not in a catastrophic way, and our sex life, despite predictable ebbs and flows, was robust. My ex simply went on an overseas boys’ trip and came back to tell me he was leaving.

But this post is not about that. It’s about rediscovering at that point in time that despite being a single mother and despite the anxieties and confusion which that entails I was not just a single mother. I was also a woman with desires and passions completely outside my daily world of work and care.

As part of a long term couple it is easy to lose sight of yourself in some ways. I have always been strong and independent and capable. In fact coming to motherhood later in life I found it difficult, impossible, to give myself completely over to being a mum. I struggled with the personal, emotional, mental sacrifices necessary to be a really good mum. The non-mum me just wouldn’t lie down and die; she wouldn’t even shut up.
When my marriage ended I couldn’t “hide” within the safety of my long term relationship. I had to actively think again about who I was.

And that someone was a very sexual being. Sex is not just penetration and orgasm. It is so much more than that (which is why it is especially sad when people minimalise it in their lives due to time or energy restraints or a perceived lack of interest/libido). It is touch and intimacy and play, it is exploration and (good) pain and a validation of our bodies that can’t be achieved in any other way. It is life affirming and beautiful and dirty. It is a fundamental building block of who and what we are as humans.

I learnt that I was a MILF in that there were (at least) two very important aspects to who I was as a woman. I am a mother and that informs almost every moment of my life. But I am also a woman who loves fucking and everything that word means. I like using the word “fuck” and its derivatives. It’s dirty and much less clinical than “sex”. Sometimes it’s the only word which will do.

From my own perspective my 40s is when I started to really enjoy sex in a very different way. For the first time sex wasn’t tied to some other issue in my life. When I was young there was the fear of an unwanted pregnancy, then I faced infertility issues which put everything about sex into a whole new and totally unpleasant ballpark. When I became a mother through adoption the ghost of the unwanted pregnancy hovered yet again over my shoulder. Then I had a hysterectomy and my body finally became my own; no more periods, no more pain, no more pregnancy fears and infertility battles. Sex purely for fun… what a novel concept.

MILF is a naughty term because there’s a slightly grubby juxtaposition between the wholesome word “mother” and the filthy “fuck”. But we are all contradictions; we are all both good and bad, kind and selfish, wholesome and filthy. As a MILF I feel sexy and desirable and confident…what’s wrong with that?

Let’s embrace the idea of being a MILF, I have.