The Gift

The Gift

Fuck all the material shit that makes me happy for a day, that's for kids. What I want can’t be wrapped in pretty paper; it can’t be bought at a store; you won’t find it on Amazon; and it’s not something you only give once a year.

All I want is words. No. Not those words.

Let's me explain.

I want the kind of powerful words that can make me feel alive. Powerful, soul-satisfying words from my husband. That's all I want. And he doesn’t need to have a degree in English. I’m not asking for Shakespeare.

"I'm proud of you."

"You're a great mother."

"I support you." 

“I’m so happy to have you in my life.”

"You're the best wife I could ask for."

"There’s no way I can tell you how much I appreciate you."

Men don't understand that words are everything to us. Acknowledgment, appreciation and desire can transform our shitty day. Just come home and tell us how proud you are of us and how we are killing it at this mothering thing once in a while. Every day we struggle with this and yearn for validation. A pat on the back or even a fucking thumbs up would be nice. I overcompensate stroking your ego, in hopes that you say something back to me other than a "thanks" or "I love you."

Every day, I long for you to say something, anything to combat this self-doubt, sadness and longing to be more than just someone who you assume is always happy.

We are struggling and times are tough, I understand, and believe me when I say I don't need anything other than this gift that costs you nothing.

Submitted anonymously

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Comments (1)

  • Amanda

    10 December 2016 at 05:29 | #

    Dear Anonymous, I hear your pain, your longing for him to see you, your hunger, your desire, the lifeblood pulsing through your veins. YOU are beautiful, complete, magnificent. You need NOTHING he can give you. The gift you need can only come from your own heart. YOU are the love you've been waiting for.


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