I’m grieving the loss of my young womanhood and the countless nights I went to bed wounded in heart and frustrated sexually. It’s hard to look at my face in mid-life and wonder how my husband rejected me when I was at my best—I was really pretty.
I went through the stages you did. I was obedient, submitting even over tiny issues. I ministered to his needs and
enjoyed it, even when he was oblivious to mine. For years, I’ve suffered from exhaustion—afraid that if I went to bed before my husband, I’d be neglecting his sexual or emotional needs. In the process, I was punished by his lack of involvement in our home and our children’s lives. Worse, he’d spend days picking at me until I exploded. Looking back, I realize that I was so hungry for an emotional connection with him that I was willing to get it through anger if that was the only way he would hear me.