Have you ever wondered what your husband really thinks about your stretch marks?  You would have seen the pictures about tiger stripes, or the hashtag LoveYourLines, but those are created by women for women.

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What My Husband Thinks
About Stretch Marks
(In his own words):

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​I love stretch marks. I think that nothing symbolises womanhood more than a tummy criss-crossed with those pale crescents of beauty.

I understand the attraction to young, flawless models.  People are interested by perfection.  But what is more valuable than perfection?  What is more interesting?

As a boy, I always preferred the company of people older than me; there is something so appealing about life experience.

I can appreciate natural gifted perfection, but wow, the intrigue and depth of character of age and experience gets my soul singing.

Maybe that is why I love athletes so much. If I were to pinpoint it, my attraction to someone is directly proportional to how hard they have had to work, how much they have had to sacrifice.

And when I say sexy or attractive, I don’t mean that I want to jump on you and dry hump your leg. Because there is an electricity that a man or woman of life experience emits. An edginess to their voice, a deep sense of self that emanates from them. An attractiveness that cannot be faked by immaturity.

Think about Seal for example. Facial scars like his cannot be hidden. The personal torment he has had to go through to just show his face at a young age, when they began, has created a strength of character that is magnetic.

Millions of women around the world find him irresistible. Sexy.

Real, deep beauty is a direct result of hard work, of sacrifice. Be it emotional or physical. Being born perfect is an amazing gift, but hard work leaves signs. Scars. None sexier than stretch marks.

Sharn has had 5 kids so far (one more to go), and each time, in the aftermath of the birth, I feel like she has been reborn. Not physically, but her soul has gone on a journey alone – to a place where great experience is earned.

She has this deep monk like calmness and contentedness that I find irresistible. Intriguing… sexy.

I for one am jealous that she (and you) can have the profound experience of something so intense and satisfying as birthing a child. Your child. I’m sure if you ask your husband, he’ll choke back tears at the thought of how tough you are to have done that with such grace.

Maybe that’s why men go to war. No act by a man will come close to matching the courage, strength and toughness carrying and birthing a child does, so we battle. But battle destroys lives. You sacrifice to create life.

Wow.

Apart from a beautiful baby that hopefully looks more like her than me, Sharny has earned a few stripes. When the belly has gone down and the shape has returned, she’s left with her mummy badges.

And I love them. I wish she’d wear midriff shirts all the time. I’m so proud of her. No bikie patch, no war wound or tattoo will ever come close to the perfect symbol of strength that a mummy badge has.

A little bit of a tan and they change colour from purple to a pale brown. And it’s not just her. If I catch a small glimpse of another mums mummy badges as she bends over to pick up her baby I can’t help but look, take a moment and think about how powerful she is.

I have a scar on my rib cage. Not very big. I tell the kids I got stabbed there trying to save a baby from a great white.  Men show off their scars with pride.

All our scars are pathetic compared to birth scars. But women feel like they should be ashamed of them? You should hide them?

I hope for your sake that as the intensity of birthing a child wears down to normality, you can have some stretch marks. Mummy badges. I hope for the sake of women around the world, and especially men who appreciate hard work as sexy, you show those beauties off like your new cleavage.

Mummy badges: HOT!

Originally published in the book Fit, Healthy Happy Mum by Sharny and Julius​