I don't even know where to start because it wasn't just one thing. It was everything. All at once.
Sex genuinely hurt. It wasn't just "uncomfortable", but felt like sandpaper. My husband would barely touch me and I'd tense up. We'd try and I'd be gritting my teeth. He could always tell so he'd stop and we'd just lie there in silence. Eventually we stopped trying altogether.
But here's the thing nobody tells you: it wasn't just the sex. It was my entire life falling apart.
I was depressed. Like couldn't-get-out-of-bed depressed. I'd wake up in the morning and just lie there thinking about all the things I was supposed to do and none of them felt possible. Unloading the dishwasher felt hard. I stopped going to the gym (even though I was the woman who never missed a workout) because my body was hurting all the time and I just didn't have it in me.
I stopped giving attention to my daughter. That's the part that really kills me to say. She'd come talk to me and I'd be somewhere else entirely. Short with her. Annoyed by everything. She asked me once, and I swear this still sits in my chest, "Mom, what happened to you? You used to be fun."
She wasn't being mean. She was asking because she genuinely didn't recognize me anymore. And the worst part? Neither did I.
My husband just kept getting quieter. Not angry. Not confrontational. Just... smaller. Like he was slowly making himself invisible so he wouldn't set me off. I'd snap at him for breathing wrong. For leaving a cup on the counter. For trying to hug me. He'd reach for me and I'd pull away and he'd just... nod. And go sit somewhere else.
And at this point I'm thinking this is over. Not just the sex. Everything. Our marriage. My energy. My personality. The person I used to be. I thought she was gone and this is just who I am now. An angry, tired, dried-out version of myself that nobody wants to be around. Including me.