For those of you who haven’t seen my husband, or at the very least a photograph of him, he’s a babe. I mean he’s someone you walk past and turn around to get just one more look at. He’s 6’4″ with brown hair and green eyes, and in true Army fashion, he’s really fit. He’s a few years younger than I am. It used to not show so much until I hit 30 and had kids. Now, I feel like we look 10 years apart. I’m graying with wrinkles and saggy parts, and he’s pulling a Brad Pitt on me and getting better looking with age.
When we first met I was probably half the size I am now. I had long platinum locks, boundless energy, and high libido. I jumped my husband every chance I got. In the car. At hotels. Constantly at home. I wasn’t tired. I always wanted to touch him and be touched by him.
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Now? Oh my gosh, please take your hands off me! PLEASE! My 2-year-old touches me all day. And in my sleep. I loathe bodily contact now.
So that begs the question: where did our sex life go?
It’s as though someone threw it right out the window. Poof. My husband had no warning, and my body didn’t give me much of a warning either. Time got away from us.
If I may be so honest, this stage of life is hard. I’m showing affection to my husband in other ways, but we don’t have the intimacy we once shared. I know he’s beautiful. He’s a great dad, and I’m truly lucky. But you couldn’t possibly turn me on more by offering me sleep or time to myself.
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To the women in bed on miscellaneous gaming apps this evening just trying to focus their minds on something other than their never-ending to-do list, I know in my heart you still physically want your husband and feel bad turning him down. I also know deep down, husbands understand the sheer exhaustion of having a newborn, and they aren’t as excitable as usual.
Captain’s log: it’s been 125 days since my husband and I had sex. And I’m not any more in the mood than I was four months ago.
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I’m just as sleepy. I’m just as irritable. And I’m just as selfish. I’d rather play on my phone, catch the new Netflix documentary, or enjoy some extra Zs. And to be frank, when we have sex, it feels like we’re checking a box to say we did so that we don’t feel bad for not having it. It’s more of squeezing in a brief session rather than long, passionate, time-to-kill romance.
I’m more attracted to my husband now than I was over 10 years ago. You just can’t tell through my tired eyes.
I never expected to be this lackluster in the bedroom, and I never wanted to be. I miss our special connection and the burning desire for intimacy. Perhaps all the sex drive is out there floating around looking for its rightful owners.
Here’s hoping when my kids are more self-sufficient that my husband and I can make up for lost time romantically. For now, I’m making up for lost sleep.