Love Advice Ever

IS IT SO BAD TO FEEL SAFE? When you can express yourself fully with no inhibitions - surely that's when you know you're onto a good thing.

I read a book recently, about long-term relationships. It told me not to get too comfortable.
There are a lot of books about how to keep your marriage hot or how to keep it at all. I read this particular one because it was supposed to be the best and I thought, "Well, sure. Maybe I'll learn something."
I'm not going to name the book because I don't want to pick a fight. Anyway, the advice is common enough: Keep an edge in your relationship. Keep your partner guessing. Lust rests on the tipping point of fear. Danger and newness are exciting, familiarity and safety are a little dull.
I agree that trust and desire are engaged in an intricate, ever-changing dance. But one of the best things about being in a committed long-term relationship is that I can trust my partner to want me. And the result isn't laziness, it's freedom.
"What felt different?" people ask me, when they ask me about why I chose my husband, Bear. Well, it felt different in this atomic, foundational way. Like opening your eyes and you're on another planet, with three moons rising, and the purple ocean softly lapping the lavender shore.
Also, I felt comfortable farting in front of him. But maybe that goes without saying. I'm never sure if that goes without saying.
Part of the fundamental difference was this enormous, endless, miles-deep trust. That was a big part, actually. I trusted him to love me back. I trusted him to find me funny. I trusted him to think I was beautiful and sexy, just for being me.
That is a lot of trust. Especially in the midst of a world that has informed me over and over again that I am probably not even remotely beautiful and sexy for being me.
When I met Bear, I had recently gotten a nose job. It had gone badly, and I looked, as I continue to look, like someone who never got a nose job to begin with. I underwent the surgery because I had come to hate my face. It was the culmination of many years of learning about beauty and self-worth, and suspecting that if only I looked a little different I might feel better about everything.
Many, many people struggle with themselves this way. Girls and women, especially, as far as I can tell. If I just lose ten more lbs, we reason constantly. We squint at our reflections, imagining little but critical adjustments. It's a small, personal, perhaps petty war that is in fact enormously pervasive, tragically distracting, and ultimately revealing of our culture's misplaced priorities.
The fact is, it's not easy to feel good about the way you look. Most of us probably don't assume that we are wildly desirable. I can't count the number of perfectly lovely friends who have wondered aloud to me when a date doesn't text if maybe he just didn't think she was "pretty enough."
When, I sometimes wonder, are we ever "pretty enough"?
Not yet, said the tiny, persistent voice in the back of my head. I live in a city where models routinely ride the subway with me, and they don't even appear to be sweating. Bear spends a lot of time traveling for work to places where beautiful women dress up in tall heels and everyone has drinks together by the water, while I chase the baby around at home, wearing what appears to be a neon-green striped tent leftover from my maternity wardrobe, and, improbably, sparkly sandals, because they are there.
And yet, I think that my husband will always think that I am 'hot'. 
After all, I always think that he is hot, so it seems to follow.
No, no, says the book. Dress up! Perform! Keep it interesting!
We, as a culture, mix up comfort and boredom sometimes. We overemphasise adventurousness. We are titillated by things that seem sexually scandalous. But learning about your own desire in the context of being consistently desired is an adventure. And more importantly, it's a luxurious relief.
I felt safe through my pregnancy, when I gained, somehow, fifty lbs, and my midwife said, "Is there anything else you can possibly cut out of your diet?" When I was vomiting everywhere and my feet were swollen sausages and I became morbid and pitiful. I felt safe as I became a mother and I had a bunch of stiches in my vagina and my belly was confused about there suddenly not being a baby in it.

Furthermore, I feel safe with everything I can't predict about our future lives together. And I have always been a neurotic little worrier, too.
But I believe that love should be like this.
On our third date, when we were definitely going to kiss, he said, "I really like your nose." Even though it looked like the kind of nose that hasn't had a nose job. Even though it is a big, strong, serious, imposing nose with its own radical ideas about nose-ing. Even though I had put so many of my hopes about beauty on it, and bet so hard that changing it would save me.
I was never, as it turns out, going to be saved that way. I had to save myself, through forgiving my face for not being someone else's perfect, airbrushed, neat and perky face. I had to forgive myself for being born this way. I had to turn my attention elsewhere. It helped a lot, to be loved like he loves me.
And, as it turns out, under everything, I guess I love myself enough to trust someone else to love me forever. I am so thankful that I love myself enough to believe without hesitation that he will find me sexy, lovely, worthwhile.
That confidence, I think, is sexy. It opens up a space for exploration, for running around naked, for uninhibited things. It is the opposite of pretending, of manufacturing rules, of making the other person insecure so that you have a bit more control. It's fantastic. It might get wild. And, shhh, it might even get a little scandalous...

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You'll love yourself more as you age

When you looked in the mirror this morning, did you stare hard at those fine lines and wrinkles? Perhaps you passed a critical eye over those not-so-perfect hips and thighs as you swore you'd get back on that diet and into those skinny jeans stuffed at the bottom of your wardrobe.
But, if you happen to be over 45, there's a good chance that instead you thought, "Well, not perfect, but not too bad after all."
An Australian study has found that, at about this age, women start to think more kindly about their appearance and learn to like and accept their bodies, flaws and all.
The research, conducted in South Australia by Flinders University psychology professor Marika Tiggemann in late 2012, also showed women starting to be more concerned with health rather than just appearance.
"If you measure negative body image, that stays pretty stable across all age groups," Tiggemann says. "But if you look at positive body image, we found that it increases as we get older, and that as we age, we appreciate our bodies more. The age of the women who took part in the research ranged from 18 to 75, and we found that the turning point for this body acceptance and positive body image was 45 to 50.
"Many young women are miserable because of the way they look and they spend a lot of time worrying about it, and a lot of time trying to be thin. But as women age, they become more concerned about eating and exercising for health, rather than just to be skinny."
Victoria McGlothren, 56, a marketing consultant from Sydney, says her own life mirrors the research findings. "Especially when I was in my 20s, I was obsessed with trying to be Twiggy-thin, but I have yo-yo dieted for decades," she says.
"My natural shape is curvy and it took me a long time to realise you can't diet your way to a different body shape, even though I've certainly tried.
"When it comes to diets, I've done them all: the 17-Day Diet, The Zone Diet, Weight Watchers, Atkins and Metabolism Miracle. There was the Fat Flush Diet and the Park Avenue Diet. I've cut out carbs, I didn't eat fruit for two months and I stopped eating all lactose products.
"And while I lost weight on them, as soon as I deviated in any way, I put the weight straight back on."
McGlothren says it was at about age 50 that she realised she needed to follow a healthy eating plan that was sustainable over the long term, and at the same time step up the exercise to keep her weight steady and to feel well.
Tiggemann believes there are two main factors that come into play for women at this age. "As women age, they become more aware of what their bodies can and cannot do, and they become more concerned with good health rather than purely about being thin.
"Secondly, it takes a while for women to realise they cannot really match up to society's ideals, and that to try to do so actually makes you miserable.
"It's an acceptance that all those ideals - being thin, having perfect hair, smooth skin and no wrinkles, the whole celebrity image - is impossible for ordinary people to achieve.
"It's about letting go of those ideals. And that acceptance of our bodies, faults and all, leads to a happier mind in general, and a happier life."
McGlothren remembers well the moment she let go of trying to achieve the body beautiful. "As I approached menopause, I started looking, really looking, at older women: women in their 60s and 70s. Many of them had faces frozen into this perpetual sort of frown. They didn't just look unhappy, they looked angry.
"Then it hit me: the older we get, the more our inside shows on the outside. From then on, I've paid far more attention to my inner life: am I doing all I can to manage stress? Am I setting a good example for my child? Am I behaving well?"
It's this attitude, she says, that has boosted her perception of her body in a more positive way than any diet she's ever tried.