To the woman whose husband no longer finds her attractive

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He doesn’t see the tears falling or hear your soft sigh, craving for his touch, wanting to be the former-you again. But I do. And here’s what I want you to know.

Yesterday, after all the chores were done, you sat down in your room. The kids were finally asleep. Your husband was also sleeping. As you sat on the side of the bed and gazed at his face, peaceful in slumber, you wished he were awake so you could talk… like you used to.

He used to hold both of your hands while talking, his fingers absentmindedly stroking yours. You would never lose eye contact as you chatted about everything under the sun.

Together, after a long day at work, you would cook a simple meal. And then, with your head on his lap and his fingers in your hair, you’d watch your favourite shows together.

Your phones were switched off so no one could disturb you. You would make love on the couch, wanting each other too much to bother to shift to the bedroom.

And afterwards, spent, as you lay in the shelter of each other’s arms, he would look at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

But things changed after you had kids. You rapidly ran out of time for each other and instead, your world revolved around your children. As you stayed up late attending to chores, he stayed up late too, but attending to his phone.

You don’t talk anymore. His eyes avoid the parts of your body marked by pregnancy and motherhood.

He Doesn’t Find You Attractive Anymore – You Are Sure of This

sadwoman feat To the woman whose husband no longer finds her attractive

I see your eyes fill with tears as you look at your man and think of the past. He doesn’t see the tears falling or hear your soft sigh, craving for his touch, wanting to be the former-you again.

But I do. And here’s what I want you to know.

You are strong. His children grew inside you. Your blood nourished them, and your body protected them. And as unbearable pain ripped you apart, you birthed them. Breasts that nurture, arms that shelter, a voice that comforts – this is you. Powerful you.

You are fiercely protective. If someone ever tried to harm your family, you know you would annihilate them in a flash. You would sacrifice yourself in a heartbeat to protect your children. You would die for them. Superhuman you.

Yet, you are soft. You are blessed with the power to comfort, with just one look, a touch, a whisper. The steady heartbeat that reassured your children in your womb still soothes them as they lay their round cheeks against your chest, listening: “thump-thump, I’m-here, don’t-cry, thump-thump.” Gentle you.

You are stunning. That smile that dimples your cheek as you flashback to a past memory, the way your eyes light up and you literally glow as you laugh at your daughters’ silliness, the pride in your heart as you watch your family that radiates from you.

Remind him that before you were woman before you were mum and wife. The girl you were is still there, just beautifully matured like fine wine.

The flash of desire in your eyes as you remember a time of passion with your man. The sway of your perfect hips, the swell of your breasts, the curves of your body. Gorgeous you.

Hold your head up high, mumma. Don’t look down when you see your man, shy about your body. Tantalise him. Brush gently against him as you pass by him, surprise him with a naughty text, take out that silky, sexy lingerie he loves, for just one night.

Remind him that before you were woman, before you were mom and wife. The girl you were is still there, just beautifully matured like fine wine.

Accept your perceived flaws as signs of beauty – your stretch marks are your tiger stripes and your C-section cut, your battle scar. Flaunt them with pride.

Challenge him to see you as the woman you now are. The mother of his children and the keeper of his heart.

You ARE beautiful. You always have been. You always will be. 

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