What a mindfuck…

I’m 41, HLM, married 9 years, and I don’t even know what to call my bedroom anymore. It’s not technically dead, but it’s dead enough that I spend way too much time wondering what the hell is wrong with me.
What makes it worse is that I genuinely try. I work out 6 days a week. I take care of myself. I shave, I wax, I make an effort to stay clean, look good, and be attractive for my wife. I dress well. I keep myself in shape. Not because I’m trying to impress random women, but because I want my wife to actually look at me and want me.
And the fucked up part? I get more attention from other women than I do from the person I married.
Not in some “look at me, I’m drowning in options” way. I’m not saying women are throwing themselves at me. But I notice the looks. The flirting. The casual comments. The energy. Enough to know I’m not imagining it. Enough to know I’m apparently attractive enough to be noticed by strangers, just not by my own wife.
That’s the part that really gets in your head.
Because after a while, it stops being about sex. It becomes this constant internal mindfuck where you’re doing everything you can think of to be desirable, presentable, attentive, and wanted… and the one person you actually want that from doesn’t seem interested at all.
So then you start asking yourself all the questions you hate asking.
Am I just not her type anymore?
Did I get too comfortable?
Am I unattractive to her?
Am I pathetic for caring this much?
How can I be desirable everywhere except in my own marriage?
I’m not expecting porn-star sex three times a week. I’m not asking to be mauled every time I walk in the room. I’d settle for feeling wanted. A kiss that doesn’t feel obligatory. A hand on me because she actually wants to touch me. A moment where I don’t feel like I’m asking for too much just because I want intimacy from my own wife.
Instead, I mostly feel stupid for still wanting it. Like some needy asshole for wanting to be desired by the woman I’ve built a life with.
And honestly, that’s the part I’m having the hardest time with. Not the lack of sex. The humiliation of putting in the effort, knowing other women notice, and still going to bed next to someone who makes me feel completely fucking invisible.