my entire life,
everyone always told me how nice i was,
talking to everyone,
i really was the nicest girl i knew.
and then i got married.
and he doted on me,
telling me the act of love was serving,
and he did.
working long hours,
coming home to see what he could do for me,
how he could help me,
he showed me how to love and i
drank it up.
i thought i was such a great wife,
my husband always put me and my needs,
in front of his and i thought it must be because i
but i never asked him what he wanted.
i never paid attention to what he needed.
i just kept on letting him serve me.
and when he was tired and napped i went in the bedroom
and begged him to get up
because i was lonely and
if he wanted to go somewhere or do something
i complained because
i didn't enjoy it and
if he asked something of me that i really didn't want to do
i scoffed, sighed, rolled my eyes because i shouldn't have to do it,
i wasn't the one who wanted it done.
and then one day i heard myself,
complaints rolling off tongue, a knife in the heart,
and lump rose in chest for this wasn't me,
i thought i was the nicest person
yet here i was discovering the deep pit of
selfishness which lived in me,
breathed in me,
to think i wouldn't even let my hardworking husband
take a nap.
and so i climbed,
ever so slowly,
out of that pit,
trying desperately to let him rest,
to ask what he needed,
to just let him
and it's amazing when you learn that the kindness which
got you through life was
all on the surface;
deep down there are these black stains that reek,
inching their way up until something happens and they
just pour out of you and you see
who you truly are
and why you really need
and for me,
that something was marriage and
those stains are selfishness and
i must drink in that grace in constant gulps or