Man, let me tell you, we hit a wall. Not like a screaming-match kind of wall, but the quiet, awkward kind where you’re both just… there. In the same house, same bed even, but miles apart when it came to, you know, that. Intimacy. It had just sort of fizzled out. And honestly? It felt pretty crummy. I kept thinking, “Is this it? Is this what happens?”
So, my first genius move? I decided I’d just be more… proactive. Yeah, right. That just meant I was initiating sex like it was a task on a to-do list. “Okay, Tuesday night, time for intimacy!” Super romantic, huh? Predictably, that went over like a lead balloon. Just added more pressure and made everything feel even more forced. Epic fail. My bad, totally.
Okay, Plan B… Or Was It C?
Right, so that didn’t work. Shocking. I wasn’t about to just let things stay that way, though. Felt like we were turning into roommates who occasionally grunted at each other. I started really thinking – not like reading textbooks, I’m not about that – but just observing, remembering. What changed? Why were we so disconnected?
It wasn’t one big thing, you know? It was like a death by a thousand papercuts. Stress from work for me, her feeling tired all the time, the kids needing everything, all at once. We just stopped seeing each other.
So, we started trying stuff. No magic formula, just stumbling around a bit:
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Actually using our words. Sounds basic, I know. But we really had to force ourselves to talk. Not about whose turn it was to unload the dishwasher, but about this. About how we were feeling. Super awkward at first, felt like pulling teeth. But slowly, we started to figure out what the other person was actually thinking, what anxieties were bubbling under the surface. Turns out, we were both feeling a bit rejected or unwanted, but for different reasons.
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Breaking the routine. Man, we were stuck in a rut. If it was going to happen, it was predictable. Same time, same place, same… well, you get it. So, we tried to just throw a wrench in that. Sometimes it was me just trying to be a bit more spontaneous, even if it felt weird. Or just changing how things got started. Anything to make it feel less like punching a clock.
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More touching, less pressure. This was a game changer, actually. We made an effort to just touch more throughout the day. A hand on the shoulder, holding hands watching some dumb show on TV. Little things. It wasn’t always about leading to sex. It was just about being physically connected again. That took a lot of the “is this IT?” pressure off every single interaction.
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Making “us” time a non-negotiable. Life’s crazy, I get it. But we realized if we didn’t actually block out time, it just wouldn’t happen. So, we started making dates. Sometimes it was just an hour after the kids were in bed, no phones, just talking. Sometimes it was actually getting out of the house. The point was to have time that was just about us as a couple, not as co-managers of a household.
And look, it wasn’t always smooth sailing. Sometimes one of us wasn’t feeling it, or old habits crept back in. And you gotta be honest about other stuff too. Like if someone’s not feeling good about themselves, or if there’s actual physical discomfort – that stuff kills the mood faster than anything. We had to be open about that, which wasn’t easy, let me tell you. Being vulnerable is hard work.
So yeah, no fairy tale ending where everything is perfect 24/7. That’s not real life. But are things better? Heck yeah. We’re actually connecting again, not just coexisting. It took effort, a lot of clumsy conversations, and being willing to try different things, even if they felt silly at first. But it was worth it. We had to fight for it, in a way. And we’re still fighting, still making the effort. Because, well, it matters.
