Post by greatcoastal on Jan 12, 2023 16:35:45 GMT -5
medium.com/hello-love/how-you-make-me-feel-in-a-dead-bedroom-31f9da0927ee
How You Make Me Feel in a DEAD BEDROOM
When your spouse makes you feel like…
When I reach out to you and you don’t reach back — I feel rejected.
When I ask to speak with you and you aren’t listening — I feel unheard.
When I’m expressive with my love and it makes you feel smothered — I feel stunted.
When I do something nice for you and you ignore it — I feel like my love is wasted.
When I tell you a secret that I’ve never told anyone else and you shame me — I feel regret.
When I share an accomplishment with you and you tell me where I went wrong — I feel like I can never win.
When I do so much to keep our house running and you don’t seem to notice — I feel unappreciated.
When I try to come closer to you and you recoil or stiffen — I feel creepy.
When my desire for sex creates pressure for you — I feel like a burden.
When we’re in bed and I beg for warmth and you push me away — I feel cold.
When I want to connect but you’re closed off — I feel lonely.
When I reach out to touch you and you swat my hand away — I feel unwanted.
When you ignore my needs — I feel invisible.
When I try to salvage what we have left — I feel hopeless.
When I reach out to you — it’s because I want to save this marriage. The other choice is leaving. I can’t love in a vacuum. Nor do I wish to any longer.
Loving is an active verb. It requires action from two people. I can’t save us alone.
I’m sure you’d say, “I have tried plenty! It’s always been you. You’re the problem.” And perhaps, I am. I won’t pretend I’m perfect. I have done as much wrong as you have in this union. Except, I won’t live this charade until the end of my days. Nope. I want more out of my life. I’d like to feel the opposite of all the above.
I don’t think that’s too much to ask for.
Not at all.
How You Make Me Feel in a DEAD BEDROOM
When your spouse makes you feel like…
When I reach out to you and you don’t reach back — I feel rejected.
When I ask to speak with you and you aren’t listening — I feel unheard.
When I’m expressive with my love and it makes you feel smothered — I feel stunted.
When I do something nice for you and you ignore it — I feel like my love is wasted.
When I tell you a secret that I’ve never told anyone else and you shame me — I feel regret.
When I share an accomplishment with you and you tell me where I went wrong — I feel like I can never win.
When I do so much to keep our house running and you don’t seem to notice — I feel unappreciated.
When I try to come closer to you and you recoil or stiffen — I feel creepy.
When my desire for sex creates pressure for you — I feel like a burden.
When we’re in bed and I beg for warmth and you push me away — I feel cold.
When I want to connect but you’re closed off — I feel lonely.
When I reach out to touch you and you swat my hand away — I feel unwanted.
When you ignore my needs — I feel invisible.
When I try to salvage what we have left — I feel hopeless.
When I reach out to you — it’s because I want to save this marriage. The other choice is leaving. I can’t love in a vacuum. Nor do I wish to any longer.
Loving is an active verb. It requires action from two people. I can’t save us alone.
I’m sure you’d say, “I have tried plenty! It’s always been you. You’re the problem.” And perhaps, I am. I won’t pretend I’m perfect. I have done as much wrong as you have in this union. Except, I won’t live this charade until the end of my days. Nope. I want more out of my life. I’d like to feel the opposite of all the above.
I don’t think that’s too much to ask for.
Not at all.