Wanted to post this here because I feel like I can’t be the only person to have experienced this…and hoping someone might be able to give me some advice/hope. Full disclosure - the following is really pathetic and self-absorbed, so if that’s all you’ve got to say in the comments, it’s already noted and you don’t need to. I’m at a really low ebb and just need advice.
Since having my child a few years ago, I sort of view my body as just this….thing to lug about and shove clothes on and wash and generally just occupy. I realise sometimes that I’ve gone the full day without having looked in a mirror…and will have stood in front of one several times, just haven’t looked up while washing hands/ brushing teeth/ walking past one.
Regarding reasons, it’s hard to pinpoint. It was an awful birth, needed surgery and blood transfusions etc. The body I have now is probably a size bigger, with saggy everything, and haemorrhoids and a vagina that’s not quite the same. I look permanently knackered and dehydrated, because I am, and my face seems to sag more and more with each day. My boobs are no longer things I associate with sex or attraction, because anything touching them reminds me of bf’ing and gives me the ick. The idea of wearing make up feels like rolling a turd in expensive glitter.
The reason this is posted to this topic particularly is, as you might have guessed, the way this has become most obvious to my husband is in our sex life. Which doesn’t exist. I can picture my body in bed doing the deed and it just repulses me to think of myself like that. So I don’t. But he keeps going on at me about why we don’t do it, telling me he has needs, telling me he’s attracted to me etc. I get that he needs sex, but at this stage I almost wish he’d go have it with someone else. There’s nothing attractive about me, and he just literally wants to have something to have sex with. (He actually bought a fleshlight around 6m after I gave birth when he still wasn’t getting any. Sort of hilarious, sort of not). I know I say I drag my body around and don’t care about it, but there’s something about lying there and being a receptacle that I think would mentally and emotionally break me, and I still value my sanity. Can’t do it.
I miss the old me. I used to love dressing up and wearing make up and, although I was never thin/ super attractive, I felt good, and sex was never an issue. I was only a size smaller, so it’s not as if I’m hugely more massive than I was. I just feel sort of….used up. Like my body created life, squeezed it out and this now is the leftover, stretched-out, scarred husk. We sometimes chat about whether or not we want another kid and he jokes about actually needing to have sex for that to happen. And I seriously do think to myself…oh yeah. Well no second kid then.
Please tell me someone else has been here, and that it changes. And thanks if you managed to read this far. It’s really depressing shit.