Becoming Invisible
I don’t know exactly when or how it happened. The moment I went from being the exotic, good-looking woman he felt like he needed to shield from wandering eyes whenever we went out in public , to who he sees now. Or should I say, the woman he doesn’t see? I’ve become invisible to my husband. The man who I married in the sweet illusion of eternal love.
I’d find consolation had it happened after I got pregnant. My body changed despite my best efforts to lose the excess weight. My hair became limp and lifeless. I developed dark circles under my eyes; an experience most mothers can relate to. I think we hold on to the hope that our partners will discover a new beauty in us. The one that was capable of enduring indescribable pain to gave birth to their first born, who proved she is selfless in the many sleep-deprived nights and raging hormone-induced breakdowns that followed. At least that’s what I did. That’s what I hoped my husband would see instead of the mess I felt like. The problem is, my husband lost interest in me long before I became pregnant. He stopped telling me I looked hot when we went out. He stopped putting his arm around my waist as to tell the others I was “his”. He stopped wanting me sexually. The realisation of this hurt like a thousand stabs to my heart. I felt ugly, insufficient, unloved.
This is where I should clarify and be truthful, even to myself, in admitting our sex life was never earth-shattering. It was just enough to keep me mildly emotionally satisfied. In the way of my own sexual gratification, it was a shambles. Orgasms for me were close to non-existent. At the beginning of our marriage I put it down to inexperience and told myself we’d adjust. Six years later it became evident that it simply wasn’t that important for him. That sex was a means to get off as quickly and effortlessly as possible. I tried to address the problem, a few times actually, but I was always dismissed. Or he’d throw an extra 3 bonus minutes in and expect a pat on the back afterwards.
As a woman that’s always been highly attuned to my sensuality all of this was difficult to understand and to accept. And I didn’t, at first. I tried every trick under the sun to try to change my predicament. I took extra care of myself and almost took up a second home in the salon as I was there so often. I ate healthy and took up a personal trainer. I invested in quality clothes and designer heels. I turned on my seduction skills up a few notches in an attempt to bring excitement and spontaneity into our dead bedroom. None, and I mean none of it worked. He told me to chill out on many occasions. I started to consider he had a lover. Someone else had to be fulfilling his needs and that’s why he’d lost interest. That explanation didn’t add up. We were together more often than not. We both worked from home, and in the height of the pandemic, it was impossible for him to have an affair.
The honest truth is I still don’t know why I became invisible. What I do know is its lead me down my own path of infidelity. A rollercoaster of emotions I’m trying to navigate, and that’s why I’ve decided to share my story.
