I kept score in my marriage for a decade until I realized no one wins at that game.
There’s a better way.
I didn’t get married so that I could win at an imaginary game of “who’s life is harder?”—his?–or mine??”
Acknowledging that I was feeling resentful was the first step. I knew I couldn’t fix something I wasn’t willing to see.
Resentment didn’t mean I had a horrible marriage. It didn’t mean I was ungrateful, either.
And it didn’t mean my husband was oblivious or uncaring.
Resentment was telling me there was something in my life that I wanted or needed but I wasn’t getting.
Resentment was a window into my deepest desires. Instead of hiding from it or clinging to it, I chose to learn from it.
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