I am trying to form better habits around not overeating. Yes, because I’m not happy with my weight. But also because every time I overeat, and my stomach bloats out, my desire for sex shrivels up like a prune. This has been the repeating pattern over my extended time experiencing a loss of libido.
I have this vivid image of myself as a huge bale of hay. I’m heavy and I’m hard to maneuver. Every time I picture my boyfriend lifting me up or pulling me on top of him, I feel sorry for him that he has to heft me around.
I have put on weight steadily over the past 3 years. It was so gradual that I barely noticed until one day it felt like I’d changed overnight. I thought it might have been because I wasn’t as active during COVID, or it was my birth control or stress, but no. It’s because I struggle with overeating.
I feel the most bale-of-hay-y after I overeat. I feel the least bale-of-hay-y in the morning when I first wake up which (surprise surprise) is my favorite time to have sex. It’s my favorite because it’s the time when I feel light and slightly sleepy, which helps dim my overactive self-criticism.
This is harsh on myself. But it’s the truth. It’s how I feel.
The problem with telling a loving boyfriend that you feel gross and unsexy is that he immediately responds by trying to build your confidence. Which is amazing. But the sad truth is that he can tell me I’m beautiful until the end of time and I just don’t believe it yet. I have to be the one to affirm that for myself.
Back to my stomach. I hate the way it looks right now. I hate the way I look sitting down. I hate the way it feels. From period pain to sharp pangs when I’m feeling anxious. The sheer weight I feel when I gave in and ate too much.
It’s not an exaggeration to say that I think about my stomach every moment of the day. But that’s nothing new. I’ve been self-conscious about my stomach since I was a teenager. The reason my loathing has kicked it up a notch is that now my stomach is stealing my sex drive.
It’s not just my stomach of course, but it’s a significant contributing factor. During sex, I’m mostly thinking about my stomach. How it looks, how it feels. How it must look weird all bunched up like that. How I’m trying to twist to hide the way it hangs down below me in certain positions.
My stomach is my sexual barometer. When I feel better about my stomach, it’s easier to get in the mood for sex. I feel sexier in my own skin. When I feel terrible about it, sex is a HELL NO.
My stomach kills my desire because I don’t believe that I can be sexy with a stomach that looks like this. I’m really ashamed to admit that because I champion bodies of all shapes and sizes. All bodies and sizes are sexy. Just not mine.
My stomach was smaller when I first met my boyfriend. I can’t help but feel like my desire has shrunk because my stomach has grown. I’m going to give myself grace and let myself feel some loathing for it right now. Tomorrow, I’m going to continue negotiating with my stomach for control of my sex drive.
No one body part should have all that power.
