I never imagined I’d find myself in this situation, but I just had an incredible night of passionate intimacy with my partner, and I’m feeling conflicted about it.
Lately, he’s been incredibly affectionate—playfully flirting with me in the hallway, brushing up against me in the early hours. Tonight, as I walked past our bedroom, he unexpectedly took my wrist and pulled me inside, pinning me against the wall. In that moment of surprise, I was utterly helpless against his skilled hands as they slid my underwear down to my ankles.
Afterward, our bodies were entwined, glistening with sweat as we shared laughter over the range of sounds our lovemaking had produced. He leaned in close and murmured, “I’m sorry, babe, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve just been really into you lately. Must be the warm weather.” Instantly, though, my mood took a nosedive, settling beside his limp physique.
I understand the reason behind his newfound desire. It’s not just the changing seasons; it’s the 8 inches I’ve shed from my hips and waist over the past few weeks, thanks to a new workout routine and a rather strict points system from an app I’ve been using.
Despite spending a decade together, raising two children, and navigating countless challenges that have brought us closer, my physical appearance still seems to dictate the rhythm of our sex life. Now we’re enjoying some of the best intimacy we’ve ever experienced, yet I can’t shake the feeling of discontent. I’m not sure if his attraction is tied to my slimmer shape or my own boosted confidence that comes with feeling better about myself.
I wrestle with whether to hold him accountable for being superficial. He often professes his love irrespective of my size, but his physical reactions tell a different story. A few pounds lost here, some toned abs there, and suddenly our stash of intimacy essentials is running low.
Perhaps the issue lies with me. Outwardly, I advocate for self-love and body positivity, but in private, I find myself critiquing my own body in the shadows of my closet. If I can’t accept myself, how can I expect anyone else to?
My body has changed through pregnancies, weight fluctuations, and various life stages, while he has remained relatively the same. He might simply be reveling in the different versions of me that come with each change in my dress size.
Now, as a slimmer version of myself, I’m engaging in intimacy more frequently, experiencing a whirlwind of pleasure mixed with guilt and unease. It’s hard not to feel torn, as if either I or he is being disingenuous, and every gasp of pleasure serves as a reminder of this inner turmoil.
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In summary, my intimate life is thriving, yet I can’t shake the feeling of dissatisfaction that comes from questioning the motivations behind our connection. It’s an emotional rollercoaster, and I’m left wondering if the essence of our relationship has been compromised by the physical changes I’ve undergone.
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