Lately, my marriage has felt strained, stretched thin by the weight of daily routines and unspoken frustrations. I used to feel cherished, like every part of me was seen and valued. But now, it’s as if a veil has come between us, blurring the connection we once had. I find myself missing those moments when appreciation felt so natural, when a simple compliment or touch could make me feel radiant, even captivating. Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost that sense of being admired, and it stings more than I ever thought it would.

In the quiet spaces of my day, I catch myself wondering: do I still have that charm? The allure that once made me feel like I could light up a room, that drew my partner’s gaze and made me feel desired and special? It’s hard to remember the last time I felt seen in that way. My reflection sometimes feels like a stranger’s, a reminder of someone I used to know but somehow lost amid the demands of life, responsibility, and routine. There’s a longing in me to feel captivating again, to know that I can still stir someone’s admiration, especially my partner’s.

But maybe the first step isn’t about waiting for someone else to remind me. Maybe it’s about remembering my own worth, about rediscovering that spark that’s always been a part of me. I realize now that charm isn’t something I need someone else to grant me—it’s something I’ve always had within me, hidden but intact, waiting to be rekindled.

Tonight, as I stand alone, I decide to start treating myself as I wish to be treated—with admiration, with care, with love. I’ll find small ways to nurture the charm I know is still there, to remind myself that I am, and have always been, enough. And maybe, in honoring myself in this way, I’ll not only feel that appreciation again but become an inspiration to those around me to see me as I see myself.