Marriage has its seasons—some warm and vibrant, others cold and distant. I’ve always known that. But lately, it feels like we’re stuck in a gray in-between, where the days blend together and the excitement we once shared has quietly faded.

I’m not angry. There’s no big fight or betrayal. It’s just this overwhelming sense that something is missing, like a piece of me has been left behind. I look in the mirror and see a woman who’s given so much to her marriage, to her family, to everyone else. But somewhere along the way, I stopped giving to myself.

I miss the fire, the spark that used to define me. I miss the way his eyes used to light up when I walked into a room. These days, I feel more like a fixture in the background—dependable, steady, but unremarkable. And that feeling? It’s eating away at me.

I want to feel wanted again. Not out of rebellion or spite, but because I need to remind myself of the woman I used to be—the one who turned heads, who felt desirable, who radiated confidence. I want to know that I still have that power, that I’m more than just a partner, a caretaker, or a provider.

Maybe it’s selfish to ask for that validation, but I can’t help it. I need to know—do I still have what it takes to captivate someone? Could you show me what I’ve forgotten about myself?