I want to share something important with you: I am not the same person I was when we first tied the knot.
When we crossed paths, I was a spirited, self-sufficient, and adventurous individual. I was eager to embrace new experiences, concentrated on my career, and committed to maintaining my health and fitness. I dreamed of traveling, dining out, and enjoying nights out with friends.
Fast forward four years and two children later, and I find myself transformed. Please understand, I wouldn’t change a thing about our life together, especially our wonderful kids, but it’s vital for me to express that I have evolved. I need reassurance from you that you can accept this change and continue to love me.
Admitting that I need this kind of support feels uncomfortable, as I’ve always prided myself on my independence. Yet, I find myself feeling off-balance. For the first time, I struggle to align my internal compass, constantly caught between reminiscing about who I once was and discovering this new version of me that feels somewhat unfamiliar.
In my past, I envisioned the beautiful family we now have, but I never considered how I would define myself in this new chapter—what would contribute to my identity?
Is it the meals I prepare? The way I change diapers? The language I use when guiding our toddler or soothing our infant? Perhaps it’s the decorative accents I choose for our home, or the endless list of chores I tackle weekly to keep our household running smoothly—diapers, wipes, dish soap, laundry, drop-offs, pick-ups, meal planning, shopping, cooking, and, of course, cleaning again. Is this who I am now? Does this define me?
Sometimes, I feel like our home is a high-performing, sleek computer, while I am merely the hard drive working tirelessly in the background. I love caring for you and our children; it brings me joy. However, the demands never cease, and it often feels like someone is perpetually in need. At the end of the day, when it’s just us, I long for a reset. Sometimes, I need you to initiate that reset for me.
I want to clarify that I deeply appreciate everything you do for our family. Truthfully, I couldn’t manage this journey without you, nor would I ever want to. But that brings me to my fear: I worry about losing you. Perhaps it’s because I feel like I’ve lost a part of myself and am unsure how to reclaim it. Maybe it’s due to feeling less attractive, constantly alternating between yoga pants (which I rarely wear for yoga) and unflattering pajamas. I often feel lonely, despite having another little one clinging to me throughout the day. I recognize that my needs from you have shifted, and I fear you may not be able to meet them.
What I need from you, dear partner, is more affection and attention. It feels uneasy for me to express this, but it’s the truth. In the early days of our marriage, I didn’t require constant affirmations of my beauty or acknowledgment of my contributions, but now I do. And it’s not just a desire; it’s a necessity.
I need you to come to me for hugs instead of waiting for me to approach you. I want you to take the lead in our intimate moments more often. I crave sweet notes or texts reminding me that I’m a great mom and wife and hearing why you love me. I need to hear happiness in your voice when we talk during the day, as I eagerly anticipate your return home. When you walk through the door, I hope for a warm embrace, despite sometimes needing a moment to myself. I want you to focus on me when we’re together, putting your phone aside and making me feel like I’m your priority, even if just for a few moments daily. I yearn for you to express gratitude and love and to recognize this new version of me.
I know that who I am today may not be the woman you envisioned when we began this journey, and I’m still figuring it out myself. So, I’m reaching out for your support. I want to rediscover my confidence and sense of self, not just for me but for our children too.
So, dear partner, while I continue to care for our family and our responsibilities, I kindly ask that you take a little extra time to care for me. I may not be the same woman you married, but I hope you can love me for who I am today and who I will become in the future. And please know, I’m doing the same for you.
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In summary, I am evolving, and I need your support as I navigate this new identity. I hope for your understanding and love as I strive to rediscover myself.