Dear Husband With Rose-Colored Glasses: Thank You For Loving Me Anyway

Dear Husband With Rose-Colored Glasses: Thank You For Loving Me Anyway

Last night, when my hairy, handsome man’s man husband snuggled up and kissed me goodnight, I cried. I knew I had to write this letter now because his response to my tear-filled words was so unexpected.

While all I wanted was to have the man I love hold me, I couldn’t stop sobbing. I wanted to be present in that intimate moment but my mind reeled out of control.

Through sniffs and sobs I managed to get out, “Do you feel like I tricked you?”

“What are you talking about?” he laughed.

“Do you ever look at me, even when you aren’t meaning to, and think to yourself that this isn’t what you bargained for and you feel trapped?”

I had intentionally scooted my body to the farthest edge of the bed and was no longer able to hold in the ugly cry I usually save for the bathroom floor so no one can hear me. I was shaking.

“Babe.” he replied softly. “I am so sorry you have ever even thought that about yourself. I am so proud of you and I have never felt like I am anything but grateful to be your husband.”

“But I didn’t look like this when you married me.”

“You were beautiful then and are even more beautiful now.”

Friends, I didn’t know what to say. In the 9 years we have been married, I have had two kids, three houses, four jobs, and gained over 100 pounds. You read that right.

To me, I would rather be inside a sleeping bag under our sheets so I can spare my husband the horror and disgust of having to touch a body that shames me daily. By avoiding intimacy with him, I feel that I am saving him from something.

But, sister, I am not. This is my deep-seated hurt. He is making himself available to me and I need to be able to accept his love and affection. I need to allow myself to really believe that he still finds me attractive and funny and worthy of his love.

Your hurt may look like something much different than mine, but I have many beautiful, dear friends who struggle with being open, vulnerable, and intimate with their spouses because their pain creates an impenetrable wall.

It is okay to allow ourselves to feel real and genuine love in our current broken situations.

So, thank you, hero husband, for loving me in spite of the ways my crazy brain twists reality and truths to detour me from your insatiable ability to love me anyway. You are incredible. I am grateful. I am not fixed, but I am healing.

About The Author

The Mama On The Rocks

The Mama On The Rocks is a blog designed to connect mamas (and dads, grandmas, aunts, teachers...) with other people who hear you, understand you, and live the same crazy madness that you live every single day. Real life in our house is just that...REAL. It isn't glitter-covered and Pinterest perfect like many portray on Facebook. I am writing about my adventures mothering a baby while also raising a child with invisible disabilities because the beginning of our journey with our son has been so utterly, paralyzingly isolating. I want to be able to help others reach out, connect, and remember that you aren't, indeed, crazy or alone. We are in this wonderful ride of insanity together!

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