He told me he’s not attracted to me anymore.
After 24 years of marriage.
Said I have a square ass.
Said I’ve put on weight.
Asked if I’ve thought about going to the gym… going on a diet.
Just laid it out there like that.
And I sat with it.
Because what do you even do with that?
After that many years… that’s what you reduce me down to?
A body you’ve decided doesn’t measure up anymore?
So now I’m looking at myself differently.
Thinking about it more than I ever did before.
Hearing it in the back of my head whether I want to or not.
And then—just a few days later—
He buys me lingerie.
Wants to have sex.
Acts like that part should just… happen.
Like nothing he said is still sitting there.
And I’m supposed to what?
Flip a switch?
Because that’s the part that doesn’t make sense.
You don’t get to tell me you’re not attracted to me—
pick apart my body—
plant that in my head—
…and then expect me to feel wanted.
Or comfortable.
Or confident.
Or even remotely in the mood.
Because now I’m not in it.
I’m in my head.
Thinking—
Is he actually into this?
Is he just settling?
Is he comparing me to someone else?
Is he picturing something different while he’s with me?
Because that’s what happens when you say those things.
They don’t just disappear because you decided you want sex now.
They stay.
They show up at the worst possible time.
And suddenly it’s not about connection or closeness—
it’s about trying to ignore everything you already said.
And that doesn’t work.
So I don’t understand this part.
How you can say you’re not attracted to me…
and then turn around and expect me to feel attractive to you.
Like those two things don’t cancel each other out.
Because they do.
At least for me, they do.
Just saying…
Tabby