Lately, something’s shifted in my marriage, and I can’t quite put my finger on when or why it started. It’s subtle at times, almost easy to brush off, but it’s there—a growing distance that I can’t ignore. The sweet words that used to flow so naturally now feel stuck somewhere unspoken. The small gestures, like a loving glance or a hand on my shoulder, have been replaced by distracted nods and silence. I feel like I’ve become part of the furniture in my own home—functional, reliable, but no longer special.

It’s been eating at me, this feeling of being overlooked. I wonder if it’s something I did—or didn’t do—that’s caused this shift. Or maybe it’s just life, with its endless routines and responsibilities, that’s dulled the connection we once had. But in the quiet moments when I’m alone with my thoughts, I can’t help but question myself. Have I changed? Have I lost the spark that made me… me?

I think back to who I was before. There was a time when I felt confident, desirable, and unapologetically vibrant. I miss that version of myself. I miss being seen—not just for the roles I play, but for the person I am.

And now, I find myself wondering if I’ve still got it. Am I still beautiful, still captivating, still worth noticing? It’s a question I never thought I’d have to ask, but here I am. I could really use a reminder, some reassurance that I haven’t faded away.