We are in the fifth year of our marriage and everything about my wife is changed. All the things I admired in her; her looks. Her colors. Her size. The way she dressed. Everything is changed. I look at her now and see a total stranger. A shadow of how she used to be and she’s only thirty-one years old.

We planned to have two children and God being so good we have them now. But it looks like there’s something about motherhood that changes everything. Our first kid didn’t want to stop breastfeeding. We had to force him to stop. He was almost two years and was still hanging onto his mother’s breast. The second one was worse. He is a complete mother’s boy. He wouldn’t sleep where the mother wasn’t sleeping. Even when I tried to keep him with me, he always found his way to his mother.

Our first child is four years now and the second is almost three years. My wife’s sister lives with us now and helps take care of the children and also does almost everything in the house. I believe now is the time for my wife to begin recovering whatever she lost due to motherhood. She was size eight when we got married. She’s now size sixteen. She didn’t lose her belly fat after delivery. She didn’t even try. Two years ago I made it a point for the two of us to start going to the gym. I paid for three months subscription and she went to the gym only once. “It’s hard,” she said. “What am I losing weight for. It came by itself and it will go now that we are done with kids.” I’ve tried helping her do some exercises in the house but she never does it. She talks about dieting which she never does. She buys slim tea and take it for a few days and abandon the rest.

I’m four years older than her but she looks like my senior sister. It bothers me a lot but she doesn’t care.

She was that girl who took several days to think about what to wear to a program. She’ll think of the event and consider the best color and the best outfit that would fit the theme of the event. She cared about her appearance and what others thought about the way she looked. Those days, she didn’t have to ask me about the way she looked. Immediately she’s done dressing, I will tell her, “You look beautiful.” Then she’ll respond, “You don’t have to tell me. Beauty is in my blood.” Nowadays, she’ll put on just anything to cover her nakedness. Maybe she’s not proud of herself when she looks in the mirror so she’ll avoid the mirror and instead come and ask me, “Nii, how do I look?”

I’m not saying all these to look for an excuse to cheat or be with someone else, no. She’s the woman I married. I married her because of her essence. Her strength covers me up and her intuition is divine. Whenever she tells you, “I don’t feel right about what you’re about to do,” If you go ahead and do it, you’ll fail. She has been essential to my growth and it’s the reason why I wouldn’t like to pay her back with evil but something is missing in our relationship and she alone can bring that thing back. Unfortunately, she doesn’t care.

I feel embarrassed to even say this but it’s my pain and I have to let it out. I’m no longer attracted to her. The last time we had sex was like three months ago. The last time we kissed was before our first child was born. She doesn’t care that we don’t do it like we used to. She doesn’t ask questions. She’s simply ok with whatever is thrown at her. She had stopped caring about everything she once paid attention to and recently I asked myself the question I never thought I would ask myself, “Should I walk away?”

I asked myself that question but I was scared to give myself the answer so I brushed it off. One night I decided to pick a harmless fight with her and use the opportunity to look into her eyes and talk about things. She had finished eating rice and soup at 9pm. At 10:30pm, she came to bed “blowing fuse.” I pushed her off the bed and ask her to go and brush her teeth before coming to sleep. I thought she would fight. I thought she would be angry. I thought she’ll slap my legs as she normally did but immediately she got out of the bed, she picked one pillow and walked leisurely to the hall. That was where she slept that night. She couldn’t be bothered.

In the morning I asked, “So you chose sleeping on the couch over brushing your teeth? Your own teeth?” She answered, “Like you rightly said, It’s my own teeth plus I was feeling sleepy.”

So I’m asking, what should a man do to get his woman to care about her own self and care about the health of their marriage? Maybe I’m being superficial. Maybe I’m the one creating a storm in a teacup. However you look at it, it’s a problem to me and I wish she could do something about it.

—Nii