What do you want to hear? That you’re good enough? Then you are. That your pretty enough? Because you’re beautiful.. That your smart enough? You never disappoint… What is it that you are looking for? Why are you beating yourself up? Why is this always a fight?

Does this argument sound familiar? Could this be between you and a friend? your mom? your husband? Well you’re not alone… I’m right there with you, and whether or not this argument happens every other weekend, or every 28 days, regardless of hormones or not, it still happens. I recently read an article written by a husband about why his wife doesn’t want to be touched, and while I can agree with his article, and his testament.. I feel like this might hit a little bit closer to home…at least for me..


I feel like no matter how many snotty or angry children you have ripping at your shirt, or de pantsing you, it doesn’t change the way you feel as a woman, it doesn’t change those awful moments you have where you just wish you could disappear.

You can have the best, most perfect, most romantical, ( barf ) relationship you can with your significant other, you can go on dates, have anniversaries, and write love notes until your gross eyes pop out of your head. You can look at your significant other and think “damn I am the luckiest in the world…” you look into each others eyes and softly say how you love them more… and you could honestly believe that nothing in the world could tare you apart.. but I can tell you sure as shit.. as soon as you start to feel the slightest bit of insecurity, you will be mf’ing that son of a bitch up and down the hall way… Do you want to know the real reason we don’t want to be touched?…because we feel gross.. we need a minute to find that strength to love our hairy legs, and our bags under our eyes. We need an hour to indulge in ice cream and lifetime, so we can realize how lucky we are we didn’t marry a novel writer turned serial killer.. We just want some DAMN PEACE AND QUIET without a reach around… We want to find our inner voice again so we can tell it that we are trying to keep it together and that if we could just get through like 17 more years of this, that we promise we will start meditating and eating organic and finally release that inner peace.. But for gods sake man… just leave us the F alone…


After literally weeks of doing the same things over and over again… cooking, grocery shopping, diapers, sports, dance, meetings, classes, and whatever other jam packed schedule we go through day in and day out, we realize that we only sleep 5 hours a night, we haven’t let our messy buns down in 3 days and all of the sudden our legs look like little Greta from Amish country.. Although we can draw a precision smoky eye for a recital or create a damn good looking fohawk, we all of the sudden can’t even function before 9 cups of coffee, and our mascara is so old the lid has crusted shut…

Most days we feel pretty, most days we feel accomplished, most days we feel organized, well put together and damnit, we feel hot.. But some days…some days we want you to stay the F away from us.. we want you to not embark on a self pity party that you had a rough day and want to “cuddle” ( aka cop a feel ) and just feel wanted when you get home… Every other day I am there for you to hug and squeeze and be reminded that an entire house of people rely on you and need you and want you.. every other day I remind you that I want you to feel loved and I want you to feel lucky you have me as a wife, but today…. today I want to wear sweatpants, no make up and I want you to NOT say how pretty I look.. I want you to not try your best line to make me feel better, because although the gesture is sweet, and honest and pure.. the way I feel after a day of teething, I don’t like this or that’s” and “TIME -OUT’s”, the last thing I want is some asshole walking in the door from 8 hours of none of the above and say ” how was your day honey..” ‘well oh sweet husband of mine.. from the looks of the dishes in the sink, the toddler glued to my leg, the middle one in time out, the oldest one in time out, the dogs running a muck in the yard, and breakfast still on the table… how the FUCK do you think my day was? And why in your right mind do you think I want to be told, ‘the house looks great..’ ‘you look great’.. ‘ the kids are great..’ ” NO IT doesn’t NO I don’t and NO the kids WERE NOT great today…. so damnit just stop there…take the toddler, bathe the children, and let me slide into bed under your left arm when I am good and ready.. let me do it on my own time.. let me watch a whole season of NCIS, drink a diet coke, and shower for more than 7 minutes.. let me close my eyes for 2… let me sit in the corner and stare out the window.. HELL let me clean the bathroom but for the love of our marriage.. DO NOT touch me, do not tell me you love me, and do not start an argument.. just let me be human for the rest of the night, and let me come to you… because darling, I PROMISE I love you, I PROMISE I need you, I PROMISE I WANT you.. more than anything in this world.. but right now, I just want to love, need and want myself.. I just want a moment of freedom from this madness, so I can come back stronger and better.. so please my love.. just remember, it’s not YOU, it’s most definitely ME….and that this too, shall pass…



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