The Italian Code

Can I just say how much I love, love, LOVE Italian men? They are completely sexy in a dark, mysterious, I could drink you up all day long kind of way. They are romantic and strong with a high pain tolerance for opinionated, strong-willed women. They tend to be the type of men who could totally kick your ass, but they don't need to because they have way too much confidence to waste their time on you, which eliminates the whole obnoxious man-eating, ego-spitting, testosterone-dripping episode that usually shadows insecure men like a pop-up thunderstorm---totally unpredictable and comes at the most inopportune time. I can tell you with confidence they are exceptional at...ahem...many things, and most important, they adore women. Um...and let me make this distinction clear in case you missed it...they adore W-O-M-E-N. Real women. Not women trapped in a girl's body. Not women with fake this and fake that. Not cover girls who look like they missed one too many meals. They adore a woman with a little something to hold onto. They want a woman built the way a woman should be built...boobs, butt and more curve than a jacked-up highway after a few too many drinks.

Now, let me set the record straight here. I am not talking about the men you see on Real Housewives of New Jersey. I'm not talking about Planet Jersey at all (though I will give props to the Joes of the world who embrace their curvy wives with such gusto it can make even the toughest critic blush.) I'm talking about men like my husband who is a Californian and part Italian and clearly had a mom who raised him right. He has all the Italian traits I love without the the chauvinistic edge that, unfortunately, can ruin even the hottest of hot Italian sex gods. (Sorry, boys, but a confident, strong woman is not going to waste her time playing mommy to you all day long no matter how gorgeous you are.) In short, if I had made a wish list of all the traits my future husband should have, I would have been writing about him.

I could go on and on about the many things I love about my husband, but today I will focus on the trait I think most women will appreciate. He does not have an American perspective on women's bodies, yet he was born and raised in the very heart of plastic America. My husband is one of the few men I've come across who truly and unconditionally loves a woman with some meat. I'm talking boobs, hips and even that little pouch of fat on our lower abs we ladies would sell our left arm to never see again. He loves that. (For the record, I'm not in love with my baby pouch, but it's nice to know someone can appreciate the leftovers from three c-sections.)

And, perhaps this is the time to reveal my stats. Yep. I'm one of those women who did not win the genetically thin lottery. I have the type of Southern farm girl build that holds onto weight in all the right places just in case you want to breed some more farmhands or move some bales of hay before dinner. I have HIPS, not hips. I have what my husband lovingly refers to as drumstick legs, which would make me first pick for a survival expedition just in case the food ran out. However, they are not so conducive to everyday life that may involve things like...I don't know...shorts, skirts, high heels. The funny thing is he likes my strong legs, and although I have had a life-long struggle with my perception of said legs, I have kind of grown to appreciate their strength and in that way, their unique beauty. They are what they are, and I am proud to have a trait that sets me apart from the ideal. In the great words of Caroline Manzo, "I own it."

Look, my husband may have been raised to love women the way they are, but I was raised to hate the way I look. And, it's literally taken me YEARS to come to terms with what I've got. The truth is I'm not what most people would consider the ideal. I am strong and in shape and solid and healthy, and I have the curves of a woman. I'm just not capable of being a size 2. It's not in my genetic code. It is, however, in my code to maintain a healthy size 8. And, you know what, I can honestly say I am okay with that now. It's so strange how I have come to actually love the way I look. Sure, there are parts I'd like to tone up a little more, but overall, I like what I see in the mirror. That is HUGE for me. And, seriously, it has helped being with a man for 12 years who loves me and wants me just as I am with no revisions and no deletions.

So, part Italian or not. That makes him pretty perfect for me.