I looked at my wife yesterday and thought, “Why can’t she just fucking stop sometimes?”

We were just sitting in the car, not even arguing, just existing. And I looked over at her and in my head, I said, “Why can’t she just fucking stop sometimes?”
Stop being difficult.
Stop snapping at me and the kids over every little thing.
Stop being so damn cold all the time.
Stop acting like everything we do is a burden to her.
Just… stop.

I hate the position her attitude has put me in. I don’t want to be this guy. I don’t want to feel like I have to find someone else to connect with. I don’t want to spend my nights venting on Reddit like some lonely, pathetic sap, getting dragged by people who think they know everything about love and loyalty and marriage from their high horse. I don't want to be this emotionally starved, bitter version of myself.

I’m tired of being made to feel like a pervert for having the audacity to be attracted to my own wife. For wanting to be close to her. For trying to initiate something beyond just being roommates and co-parents. It’s humiliating. I’m not some creep—I just want connection, intimacy, affection. The basic things people in love are supposed to give each other. But her neglect has turned me into someone I don’t even recognize. I hate that.

I hate that she thinks nothing is wrong, even when I’m telling her something’s wrong. I hate that I’ve spelled it out, tried to have the conversations, tried to fix things—and somehow I’m still the problem in her eyes. I’m always the problem.

I hate that she keeps wanting to take pictures as a family—big smiles, matching outfits, Christmas cards—like everything’s perfect. Like we’re not crumbling on the inside. I hate having to fake it for a photo just so she can post it online and feel validated, while behind the scenes, she’s making us all miserable.

She’s like an overgrown child—emotionally immature, selfish, and exhausting. Everything revolves around her moods, her needs, her wants. Even dinner. She’s so picky we eat the same four things every week—not because we can’t do better, but because she refuses to try.

I’m tired of walking on eggshells. I’m tired of carrying the emotional weight of this house. I’m tired of smiling for the kids while I’m dying inside.

And honestly? I hate being judged by strangers as if I’m the worst person in the world because I’m looking for someone to connect with. Like I’m some kind of monster for wanting to feel desired or loved. They don’t know what it’s like to be trapped in this, to be ignored, to be made to feel invisible in my own marriage. But because I’m trying to make myself feel alive again, they’re quick to throw stones. I don’t need the judgment. I need understanding.

I don’t know what I’m asking for. Maybe nothing. Maybe just to be heard. To be seen. To feel like I’m not crazy for feeling all this. Because right now, it feels like I’m invisible in my own life.

Edit: Forgot to include this—it's not as simple as just leaving, as everyone will obviously chime in and recommend. Financially, it would ruin me. It would ruin my kids' futures. Starting over would put me years behind in any chance at building a life where I'm genuinely happier. My kids would end up with her most of the time, and while I’m sure that sounds like a relief to some, I’m the one who’s here to protect them, to guide them. Leaving would leave them in a situation I can’t stand by and watch. It’s not just as easy as people make it sound.

EDIT/UPDATE:
Well, of course the one post I make from a nonsense throwaway account is the one that blows up. Should’ve known most of the comments would shred me. That said, I wanted to add a few things since a lot of the responses follow the same general theme.

When it comes to household and parenting responsibilities, I’d say it’s an 85/15 split—with me doing the bulk. She’ll come home from work, sit on the couch or scroll the computer while I make dinner. After we eat, I’ll do the dishes while she kind of hangs around. She gets her nails done whenever she wants, goes out when she feels like it—there’s no controlling or gatekeeping happening here. I give her space.

From the comments, yeah, I can admit there’s probably something deeper going on. She grew up in a house where therapy and emotional growth were frowned upon, almost villainized. Her parents have a similar marriage dynamic to ours, maybe worse—emotionally distant, critical. I do my best to talk to our kids and show them that this level of anger or resentment isn't okay, and if my own parents were still alive, they'd definitely see how off this is.

Since posting, oddly enough, she’s been a little nicer. I doubt she saw this—she has zero clue what Reddit even is—but maybe just putting it out there shifted something in the universe. I’ll take the kindness, but I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t feel off. It’s giving “Men in Black alien in a human body” energy—awkward and stiff.

Anyway, thank you to the people who responded with empathy instead of just heat. Like Ted Lasso quoting Walt Whitman once said: Be curious, not judgmental.