I don't need you to worry for me, cause I'm alright.
I've always been the sort to put on a brave face, and take care of myself as much as possible. For as long as I can remember I didn't want to be taken care of, didn't want to learn to rely on others, didn't want to seem, or be made to feel, weak. I've always thought of this trait as a good thing, but I understand that others haven't always shared that view. I value my independence, my strength, my ability to take care of myself, and even to help those around me. I'm proud of my ability to smile through adversity, to camouflage my pain and my fears with bravado. I'm secure in the knowledge that whatever life throws at me, I'll be okay.
And now I'm learning how to do things a little differently.
I was "tucked-in" last night, and told I was not to get up. I think he even may have kissed me on the forehead. I realize that at least the pseudo-feminist in me (she's just to the right of my appendix, except for the times when she circles my kidneys with her little cardboard signs, protesting whatever is the latest thing) should have been offended by this, and should have said as much, but I was too tired to put up a fight, and besides, any fight I did put up would have been for nothing more than the sake of argument, since it was nice, and I knew it was meant in the nicest possible way.
He worries about me, and cares, and pays attention, and wants to help. His love feels so good it sometimes makes me want to cry.
And now I'm learning how to do things a little differently.
I was "tucked-in" last night, and told I was not to get up. I think he even may have kissed me on the forehead. I realize that at least the pseudo-feminist in me (she's just to the right of my appendix, except for the times when she circles my kidneys with her little cardboard signs, protesting whatever is the latest thing) should have been offended by this, and should have said as much, but I was too tired to put up a fight, and besides, any fight I did put up would have been for nothing more than the sake of argument, since it was nice, and I knew it was meant in the nicest possible way.
He worries about me, and cares, and pays attention, and wants to help. His love feels so good it sometimes makes me want to cry.