I Gained Weight and My Husband Stopped Touching Me This Is What Actually Helped

I was folding laundry last Tuesday, just standing there with this pile of his t-shirts, and I picked up one of mine by accident. One of those old ones from like, three years ago. 

Weight Gain and Relationship Problems Psychology

The gray one with the little hole near the collar that I used to sleep in. I held it up and just stared at it for a second. It looked like a child's shirt. Like something that couldn't possibly fit an adult human. But it did. It used to.

I put it down. Didn't try it on or anything. Just put it on top of the pile and kept folding.

Later that night I was brushing my teeth and I caught myself in the mirror. Not really looking, just... there. The light in our bathroom is terrible, yellow and harsh, and I noticed how I sort of angled myself to the side without thinking. Like I'd been doing that for months. Years maybe. Just not facing things straight on. Not just my body. Everything.

We were watching something on the couch. Some show he picked. I don't even remember what. But I realized I was sitting at the very end, you know? Like there was this whole cushion between us. When did that start? I used to fall asleep with my legs across his lap. Now there was this space. Not angry space. Just... distance. Like we'd agreed on something without speaking.

He didn't look at me when I got into bed. Just kept scrolling. That's normal, I guess. Everyone does that now. But I noticed it. I notice everything now.

The thing is, it didn't happen all at once. That's what people get wrong. They think there's this moment, this big talk or fight or something. There wasn't. It was just little things that stopped. He used to touch my back when he walked past me in the kitchen. Just this light thing, barely there. I don't know when that stopped. I tried to remember the last time and I couldn't. Maybe March? Last year? I genuinely don't know. This kind of slow shift, where nothing big happens but everything changes, is actually what people describe in emotionally fulfilling marriages when it starts slipping without anyone noticing.⁠

And it's not like I can ask. What would I even say? "Hey, remember when you used to touch me?" That's pathetic. That's something you can't take back once you say it.

I started wearing his old hoodies around the house. They're huge on me, which I guess is the point. I found myself doing that more and more. Covering up. Even when it was just us. Especially when it was just us.

The photos thing is what really got me. We went to his sister's birthday, and someone wanted to take pictures, and I just... moved. Like reflex. Ended up in the back behind everyone. Then I saw the pictures later on Facebook and I looked like I was hiding. Because I was. I am. I didn't used to do that. I used to be the one pulling people into photos. Now I find reasons to be in the kitchen when people are taking out their phones.

He doesn't take pictures of me anymore either. Not that he was ever big on that, but there used to be these random ones. Me cooking, me asleep on the couch, stupid stuff. My camera roll is full of screenshots and food photos now. That's it.

I don't feel desired anymore after gaining weight. I know that's not something you're supposed to say out loud. Like it makes me sound weak or something. But it's true. I can feel it. Not just from him. From myself. I don't desire myself. I avoid myself. I avoid mirrors and photos and anything that shows me what I look like now.

The weight came on so gradually that I kept thinking I was imagining it. Like maybe my clothes were shrinking or something. I told myself that. For months. Then I stepped on a scale at my mom's house and just stood there. The number didn't even register at first. I had to do math. When did I get here?

Stress eating. That's what they call it. I don't know if that's what this is. It's just... I'm tired at the end of the day. So tired. And there's this bag of chips or whatever, and it feels like the only good thing. The only thing that doesn't ask anything of me. I sit on the couch at 11pm eating things I don't even taste anymore. Just mechanical. Hand to mouth. Sometimes I don't even remember deciding to eat. I'm just... doing it.

Late night eating is the worst because you wake up feeling like garbage. Puffy and slow and ashamed for no specific reason you can name. Just this general bad feeling about yourself that follows you around all day. And then you're tired again, so you do it again. The cycle.

I used to have energy. I mean, I think I did. I used to want to do things on weekends. Now I just want to sit. Everything feels like effort. Getting dressed feels like effort. Having a conversation feels like effort. Being touched feels like effort, which is probably why I stopped initiating anything. It's not that I don't want to be close to him. It's that I don't want him to feel what I feel. This... softness. This wrongness.

Relationship changes after weight gain aren't dramatic like people think. At least mine wasn't. No one yelled. No one said anything mean. It's quieter than that. It's the absence of things. The absence of his hand on my hip. The absence of him looking at me when I get out of the shower. The absence of us.

I started sleeping in my clothes sometimes. Just because I didn't want to change in front of him. Not that he was looking. He wasn't. That's the point. But I didn't want to risk it. Didn't want to see his face if he did look. What if I saw something? Disappointment or worse, nothing at all. Just blank. Like looking at furniture.

Body image issues in relationship psychology is something I looked up once at 2am. I don't know why. I just couldn't sleep and I was googling things. Found all these articles about attraction and marriage and how physical changes affect couples. They all sounded so clinical. So removed. Like we were specimens. No one talked about standing in your kitchen at midnight eating crackers and feeling like you're disappearing. No one talked about how you can be in the same room with someone you love and feel completely alone.

Why couples grow apart after body changes. Another thing I searched. Like the answer would be in some study. Like if I understood it, I could fix it. But understanding doesn't fix anything. I understand that I'm different now. I understand that he's different with me now. So what? What do I do with that?

I gained weight and my relationship changed. That's the simplest way to say it. That's the truest way. I don't know which caused which. Maybe they happened together. Maybe I started pulling away and he sensed it and pulled away too. Or maybe he pulled away first and I ate my way through feeling bad about it. Chicken and egg. Who knows.

I found this thing online. Mitolyn. I wasn't even looking for it, just fell into some rabbit hole about metabolism and energy. I don't know if it does anything. I'm not expecting magic. But I started taking it because... I don't know. Because doing nothing felt worse than doing something that might not work. That's where I'm at. That's the level of hope I have. Might not work. But at least I'm trying something. If you’re curious what I ended up trying and why, this is exactly what I looked into ⁠ 

The emotional eating is the hardest to stop. Because it's not about hunger. I know I'm not hungry. I'm just... filling something. Numbing something. The day is long and hard and full of things I didn't get done, and then there's food. Immediate comfort. Immediate shame. Immediate comfort again. The loop.

I noticed last week that I had three good days in a row. Not perfect. Just... better. I went to bed at a normal time. I didn't eat after dinner. I woke up and didn't feel like garbage. Small things. But I noticed them. I noticed that I had a little more energy. That I actually wanted to take a walk. That when he asked me something, I looked at him instead of at my phone.

Why weight gain causes relationship problems. I think I get it now. It's not the weight. It's what the weight represents. It's the withdrawal. The shame. The way you stop showing up because you don't want to be seen. You stop being present. You stop being playful. You stop being the person they fell in love with, not because of how you look, but because of how you act. How you hide.

How weight gain affects intimacy in a relationship. It's not just sex, though that's part of it. It's the small intimacies. The way he used to kiss my shoulder for no reason. The way I used to lean into him when he was cooking. All that stopped. I stopped it. Or he stopped it. We stopped it together, somehow, without discussing it. And yeah, I ended up reading how body changes and self-image can quietly mess with intimacy more than people admit, which honestly made it feel less like I was imagining it.

Feeling unattractive after weight gain in marriage is this weird lonely place. Because you're supposed to be past all that, right? You're married. He loves you. But love and desire are different things. And you can feel when one is missing. You can absolutely feel it. It's in the air between you. It's in the way he doesn't reach for you anymore. It's in the way you wear baggy clothes to bed. It's everywhere.

Why partner loses attraction after weight gain. I don't blame him. I really don't. Attraction isn't a choice. You can't negotiate it. You can't guilt someone into wanting you. And I don't even know if that's what happened. Maybe he doesn't feel any different. Maybe this is all in my head. Maybe I'm projecting my own disgust onto him. That's possible too. Probably likely.

I started doing this thing where I eat at the table instead of on the couch. Small change. Sounds stupid. But it helps. I actually taste my food. I stop when I'm full instead of when the bag is empty. I don't know if it's making a difference on the scale. I haven't checked. I'm scared to check. But I feel a little better. A little more in control.

Communication improving slightly. That's where we are. I asked him about his day yesterday and actually listened to the answer. He looked surprised. I was surprised. It's been a while since I really listened to anything. I've been so wrapped up in my own head, in my own body, in my own shame. It's exhausting, carrying that around. No wonder I had no energy for anything else.

How to feel confident again after gaining weight. I don't know. I'm not there yet. I'm not confident. But I'm less... invisible? To myself, I mean. I'm looking in the mirror a little longer. Not loving what I see, but looking at it. Acknowledging it. That's something, right? That's a start?

I took a picture of myself last week. Just a selfie. I didn't post it anywhere. Didn't even keep it. Deleted it right after. But I took it. I looked at myself through the camera. That's more than I've done in a long time.

Mitolyn again. I don't know. Maybe it's helping with the energy. Maybe it's placebo. Maybe it's just that I'm trying again, and trying gives you energy even when nothing else changes. The act of caring about yourself. I'd forgotten how that felt.

We're not fixed. I want to be clear about that. We're not better. We're just... less bad. Less distant. He touched my hand yesterday when he was reaching for the remote. Accidental, probably. But I felt it. I noticed it. I didn't pull away.

I still eat late sometimes. I still have days where I feel like a stranger in my body. I still avoid photos. I still wonder if he looks at me and feels disappointed. I probably always will wonder that. Even if I lose the weight. Even if everything goes back to how it was. That doubt is in me now. I don't know if it ever fully leaves.

But I'm here. I'm writing this. I'm thinking about it. That's different from six months ago when I was just... surviving. Going through motions. Pretending everything was fine while I slowly disappeared into hoodies and late-night snacks and silence.

I don't have answers. I don't have a happy ending to this story. I'm still figuring it out. Still trying to find my way back to myself, and maybe back to us, or forward to whatever we become. It's messy. It's slow. Some days I don't try at all. Some days I try a little. If you’re in that same place where nothing feels clear and you just want something simple to start with, this is what I personally chose to try 

The gray shirt is still in the drawer. I haven't thrown it away. I look at it sometimes. I don't know why I keep it. Maybe as a reminder. Maybe as a goal. Maybe just because throwing it away feels like giving up on something I'm not ready to give up on yet.

He's in the other room right now. I can hear the TV. I should go in there. Sit closer than I have been. See what happens. Or maybe I'll just sit here a little longer. Thinking. Remembering. Noticing things that didn't make sense before but do a little now. Just a little.