For some time now, I’ve debated with myself to start writing. There’s always been a reason not to. Time, fear, doubt…they’ve all played an equal part in my decision to push the idea to the back of my mind.
I’m now about to be 40 years old, and I just can’t hold back any longer.
But, where do I start? The beginning, well that would just be expected, and (if I’m being honest here) who the Hell can remember all the details in chronological order?!?
So, I’ll start from now.
I (40F) write from the “comfort” of my bed. Another day has gone. I’ve spent my time focused on the wants and needs of everyone around me, and now I have but just a moment to think of myself.
How did I get here? Lost in the world of everyone else. Invisible to all, even those who see me every day.
Married to man (40) who’s infidelity has crumbled every part of my soul, I struggle to find myself in a sea of demands. For I am responsible for making this family work.
Determined to give my children a family home to grow up in, I’ve stayed through the dishonesty, insults, and pain. I’ve buried my own unhappiness to prevent theirs. Because while he’s a bad husband, he’s an amazing father.
Still, I lay here, forgotten.
Twenty years we’ve been married. Twenty years of birthdays overlooked. Twenty years of anniversaries focused on him. Twenty years of loving someone but never being loved back the same way.
I wake each morning, make him coffee, lunch, and send him to work. I then work 8-10 hours at my own job while handling anything the kids need as well. In the evenings we make dinner and are intimate almost daily. I focus on his desires and tend to him making sure he’s satisfied.
Still, I lay here, empty.
Is it wrong to dream of one day meeting a man that asks me what it is I want, and actually listen to my response? To meet a man that pays just as much attention to me as I do him? Who would know my favorite color, activities I enjoy, and who can stimulate me not only physically but mentally as well?
I’m sure plenty of people feel it is wrong of me, but I am just human. I too want to be seen, heard, loved. I want to be desired.
Still, I lay here surrounded and alone.
TL;DR