Our marriage has hit a rough patch, and I’m starting to feel like a ghost in my own life. I reach out to him, trying to bridge the gap between us in small ways—a lingering touch, a kind word, a shared laugh. But more and more, it feels like my efforts go unnoticed, like they’re slipping past him without even a glance. It’s as though the space between us is filled with silence, each attempt at connection sinking into a void I can’t cross. And in that silence, I start to feel invisible.

I remember when things were different. There was a time when his eyes lit up at the sight of me, when he’d pull me close just to breathe me in. He would tell me I was beautiful, look at me like I was someone worth cherishing. Those moments made me feel grounded, secure—seen. But now, I struggle to remember the last time he looked at me that way, and it leaves me wondering if that part of our relationship has disappeared for good.

More than anything, I want to feel valued, like I matter beyond just being a wife, beyond the routines we’ve slipped into. I long for him to notice me, to remember the woman I am, and maybe to help me remember her too. I miss feeling beautiful, like I’m someone who can captivate and inspire love. And I can’t help but think, maybe if he saw me like that again, I’d be able to find that part of myself that feels lost.

But perhaps it’s not only about his gaze, his validation. Maybe it’s about learning to see myself in that way, finding the beauty and worth within, even if he doesn’t remind me. Because deep down, I know I am still that woman—someone who is deserving of love, of admiration, of feeling valued. And maybe this rough patch is the chance to rediscover that strength, to remind myself that I don’t need to be invisible, not to him, and especially not to myself.