M.I.L.F.; An acronym for “Mother I’d Like to Fuck”, is a common colloquial term generally regarded as vulgar when spelled out. It denotes a sexually attractive older female, generally between 30 and 50 years of age.
(As opposed to M.I.L.F.; Moro Islamic Liberation Front, a militant Islamist group located in the southern Philippines.)
The acronym “M.I.L.F” has entered the public lexicon fairly recently, but the concept of “Mom I’d Like to Fuck,” is not particularly new or revolutionary. In Biblical times, Sarah was still considered a great beauty well into her nineties when Abraham finally knocked her up. In the twenty-first century, I discovered that the term was coined by Internet porn and a Google search turned up 59 million such sites. I had no idea I was aspiring to something so popular. And so filthy.
To me M.I.L.F. has a slight connotation of “Cougar” that other slang term for the older predatory female (allegedly also between 30 and 50 years of age) who would like to date men twenty years her junior. Which means that if she is the ripe old age of 31, she’s into 11 year olds. Somehow I don’t want to be seen in the same category as Mary Kay Letourneau.
I find the M.I.L.F. label to be a dual edged sword. On one hand, I appreciate any attention nowadays, as my ego has taken an inevitable beating with age (I think they call that maturity, doesn’t mean I have to like it.) Although I consider myself lucky to get more than my share of looks, I can’t help comparing them to my life before babies, or even to when I modeled in my teens and early twenties; the temptation is to wear a t-shirt emblazoned on the front with “You like me now?” and on the back “You should see what I used to look like.”
Although it’s better than the days when I was still desperately pushing around the double stroller. When I was pushing that (helpful) vehicle of the devil, it was like I was invisible. I was convinced I could have tottered behind that thing wearing nothing but six-inch stripper shoes with Lucite heels, a gold thong and a couple of pasties and no-one would have looked twice. Of course these are not just motherhood issues, these are aging issues, and we live in a culture that still seem to prize youth and immaturity, while at the same time deriding it. Even when I had no lines in my face, and no dependents, I still felt it was lose/lose. (Maybe because I wasn’t correctly medicated yet.)
The fact is that I’m no longer the ingénue and I don’t think I ever was. I’m the only person I’ve ever seen that looks cynical in my baby pictures. I was like a bitter divorcee by the time I was 12.
On the other hand I no longer want to be interested in how I look under the “male gaze.” And if you don’t know what that is, it’s the objectifying eyes of a man that look you up and down and decide if you’re still “fuckable.” These are untoward thoughts for a mom, but I have them, so too bad. I still like male attention (if it’s benign and not aggressive) and I hate that I like it. I don’t ever want to depend on outside factors to feel attractive, sexy or in any way worthwhile, and so I am aware that reliance on this male appraisal (good or bad) is a huge trap.
No matter how well I age, it will atrophy with time, so the adjustment I have been working on for decades is to gain my worth from within, and so I am here to take back the term M.I.L.F. The last thing I want to be is the female equivalent of the aging Lothario with the red convertible and the bad hair piece (G-d giveth and G-d taketh away.)
Today what is important is not who wants to sleep with me, or if they do, whether I have pissed off a friend or spouse and am momentarily not in their good graces, or even if my children approve of me or not. What matters to me is that I am becoming a true M.I.L.F.; Mother I’d Like To Fuck. And by “Fuck,” I mean Make Love To/Love/And All Round Appreciate, but sometimes you gotta compromise a little to keep the catchy acronym…