Ben and I have been together for a year now. Ours is the kind of relationship that started off slowly; easy laughter, shared prayers, quiet evenings spent talking about everything and nothing. It’s been a peaceful and smooth ride with him so far. Now, we’re talking about marriage. We should have our wedding next year if everything goes as planned.

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I know Ben enough to know that he is a good husband in the making. He is kind. Generous too. He doesn’t have much, but he reminds me every time that whatever he has belongs to us.

Material needs aside, he takes care of my heart in a way that makes me feel seen. Oh, and he listens to me. I can tell him anything and not worry that he would misunderstand or judge me.

I know I already mentioned that we pray together but I need to emphasize his love God. It’s one of the things we easily bonded over. He is the kind of Christian who practices what he preaches. A true man of principles.

Sometimes I watch him when he’s not looking and think, “This is a good man.” He is exactly the man I prayed for.

But there’s something I haven’t told anyone. Something that’s been gnawing at me in the quiet moments.

No matter how hard I have tried, I am not physically attracted to him.

There, I said it.

It’s not easy to admit. It makes me feel shallow. Ungrateful, even. How do you look at a man who treats you so well and say, “Something is missing”?

We talk on the phone a lot. Those are the best times. I laugh easily. I feel warm. I forget this worry. And I’m not really an outdoor kind of girl, so most of the time, we hang out at his place. We sit. We chat. We laugh. His presence calms me. I love his smile especially. When I see it, I feel as though I’m wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold night.

But the moment we step outside, something changes. The peace disappears. The spark? Gone. When he walks beside me or when we run into each other in public, the chemistry just evaporates. I find myself zoning out mid-conversation, looking for a reason to end the moment.

That’s what scares me the most—because I do love him.

I think.

But the attraction, or lack of it, has become this quiet, persistent hum in the background. I don’t want it to be the reason I pull away. I don’t want to be that girl who left a good man because he didn’t “do it” for her physically.

But here we are.

And yes, maybe it’s partly the way he dresses. There’s this one pair of trousers he wears—honestly, I’ve seen him wear it more times than I’ve seen my favorite dress.

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I don’t like it. I want to tell him, and I probably will. But I know, deep down, it’s not just about the trousers. It’s not about the shirt that’s always slightly wrinkled or the shoes that don’t quite sit straight on his feet. It’s the feeling that’s not there. That magnetic pull. That rush. That butterfly-like flutter.

I want to know, does physical attraction grow with time? Can it be nurtured the same way trust and respect are? Or is it something that should be there from the start?

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Please don’t judge me. I’m not looking for perfection. I’m just looking for clarity. For someone to tell me that love without attraction is enough.

Because if this ends, and I hope it doesn’t, I want to be sure I gave it everything I have.

— Akillah

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