Requests And Routines
Just as the kids headed off to their art class, my phone buzzed with another request—David’s casual voice asking if I could pick up some groceries. “Of course, I’ll get to it,” I answered, steady but with a quiet determination beneath my calm tone. It was funny how effortlessly their needs wove into my days, like a well-played instrument, yet beneath it all, the faint hum of change lingered.
Requests And Routines
Realizations And Resentment
Sitting quietly, the truth settled around me—they saw me as nothing more than ‘free help.’ The kids laughed, their crayons scrawling vibrant worlds across paper, full of color and life. Meanwhile, I remained the invisible support, keeping those colors bright. A quiet sting of resentment crept in, urging me to demand the recognition I deserved. The story had gone too far, and with a firm resolve, I knew I couldn’t ignore it any longer: it was time to rewrite this script.
Realizations And Resentment
