I recently shared a selfie of myself getting ready to hit the pool with my kids on my blog’s Facebook page. The caption read, “On our way to the pool! Let’s hope this dad bod trend is still a thing because I’m going topless.”
For those who haven’t caught the wave, the term “Dad Bod” surged in popularity after a Clemson sophomore, who goes by the name of Morgan Taylor, wrote an article for the Clemson Odyssey titled “Why Women Adore the Dad Bod.” She argued that ladies are attracted to men whose bodies strike a balance between a little belly and a bit of fitness, rather than those sculpted guys with perfect abs. This concept quickly gained traction, allowing men to let go of their gym routines, while leaving women to wonder: where’s the love for the Mom Bod?
Take this for instance: shortly after I posted my selfie, one of my friends commented, “I wish Mom Bod was a thing.”
Ironically, I was parked outside Target, with our three kids in the backseat, while my wife, Sarah, was inside searching for a new swimsuit because her old one just didn’t fit the same anymore. We had a bit of a debate before leaving home; I told her she looked fantastic in her suit, but she kept insisting that motherhood had ruined her figure.
Eventually, Sarah returned with two swimsuits, unable to choose between them. “You’ll look stunning in both,” I assured her.
She flashed a smile and replied, “I hope so.”
When Sarah emerged from the changing room in a sleek black one-piece, she looked radiant, her hair neatly braided, and our little one, Lily, perched on her hip. In that moment, she embodied everything I admire—this incredible woman who has shared a decade of marriage with me, who has stood by my side through thick and thin, and who nurtures our children with such love and care. Yet, as she approached me while I was slathering sunblock on our older kids, I noticed a hint of uncertainty in her expression.
“You look amazing,” I said, trying to boost her confidence. She offered me a subtle smile, one that often leaves me guessing—does she not believe me, or does she just not see herself that way?
At that moment, I decided to take my shirt off. It was the first time I felt brave enough to do so at a pool in years. Yes, the Dad Bod played a part in it, but more so, I had recently shed 25 pounds by simply counting calories. According to the BMI charts, I still had a bit to lose, but as a father of three, I felt ready to take the plunge without my shirt on.
About an hour later, Sarah snapped a photo of me playing with Lily, and when I saw it, I thought, “Wow, I look out of shape.” So, I deleted it.
When Sarah asked why I got rid of the picture, I replied, “I looked fat.”
She shrugged and said, “You looked sexy.”
Suddenly, the tables had turned; she was now the one trying to reassure me about my Dad Bod when just moments before, I had been trying to lift her spirits.
But really, what is this Dad Bod anyway? It’s a construct of pop culture, a label born from social media.
The truth is, neither Sarah nor I truly accept each other’s compliments because we both grapple with our own insecurities. Media portrayals of attractiveness are often unrealistic and ever-changing. Whether it’s the Dad Bod, the Mom Bod, or something else entirely, I often feel like I don’t measure up—and I suspect Sarah feels the same way.
Here’s the real deal: I think my wife is extraordinary in countless ways. She captivates me.
This is the essence of the Mom Bod. If you could encapsulate in a photo all the love Sarah has for our children, her unwavering commitment to our family, her ability to balance being a full-time mother and a part-time student, and all the sacrifices she’s made for us, she would grace the cover of every magazine. That’s what true beauty is about.
Sure, a flat stomach and curvy figure may look appealing on paper, but I’m speaking for myself here—many men feel the same. We are in awe of our wives, and it’s rarely just about looks. It’s about the entire package that makes a partner and parent worth cherishing for a lifetime. After a decade of marriage, my passion for Sarah is fueled more by her dedication to our family and her drive to excel in everything she does than by her physical appearance.
As we left the pool, once the kids and gear were stashed in the van, I pulled Sarah close and said, “You were the most beautiful woman at the pool today.”
She smiled and replied, “To you.”
“That’s all that matters,” I said, and she kissed me gently.
In conclusion, embracing our unique shapes—whether it’s the Dad Bod or the Mom Bod—allows us to appreciate the beauty of love, commitment, and the incredible journey of parenthood.
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