You Went From Horrible to Good. Thank you My love

When I first had my surgery, you said that you loved me deeply and was very concerned for my well-being, but slept through most of my hospital stay, right there beside my bed.

Even when I returned home, you didn't understand how hard recovery would be for me, and when I didn't feel well enough to do anything at all and should have been in bed resting, you had me make you coffee. When I felt okay to be up and around, you ordered me to go to bed. It was constant contradiction, and it hurt both physically and emotionally.

You blamed my weepiness and lack of sleep on the sudden absence of hormones, but the estrogen hadn't left my body as quickly as my ovaries had, and I was angry at you for blaming everything that you considered a "problem" with me on my hysterectomy instead of realizing that the symptoms I was having were normal for after any serious surgery.

I was so confused and hurt by your failure to understand, your hatred of the way you thought I was acting, and your interpretation of the healing process, that it strained our relationship. I almost left you many times since my surgery because I just couldn't take the roller coaster ride that you were putting me through. With all of the emotional turmoil that I was going through, I needed you to be there to support me and bolster me. To let me know that you still loved me and that it would get better. You just weren't capable of that, though. It seemed like all you wanted to do was blame me for all of the problems we were having, and take no responsibility for it yourself. No matter how many times I accepted responsibility for something that I had, or may have, done wrong, it was never enough, and I was never good enough.

I walked on eggshells every day, for fear of upsetting you in some way. I stopped sharing my feelings with you, stopped talking to you for the most part, and only showed you my love and devotion. Even then, sometimes I was bothering you, or not paying enough attention, or.. something. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't ever seem to do anything good enough.

I was afraid to start taking the NHRT that my doctor gave me because of what you might blame on it, or what you might say I was better for, for taking it. You found it so very easy to use me as a scapegoat, and any little change or feeling that I had, especially if I felt that I needed your support emotionally, was to be blamed on my lack of hormones. When I cried, for whatever reason, when I showed any weakness at all it seemed, you responded by rolling your eyes and saying something like 'oh god, not this crap again'. I had no support, no real love, nothing. I felt like the only time I could get affection from you was when we were getting ready for sleep, or when you wanted something from me.

I was miserable, alone, and scared. Your job in our home, in our lives, seemed to be to point out how horrible everything in our lives was, how hopeless things were, how worthless my feelings were. and how much of everything was my fault, or, in contrast, how much of a 'piece of **** you were, and how I would be better off without you. Much of the time, I would have agreed, but I loved you, so I stuck with you.

The other day though, you talked to a mutual friend of ours. You learned from an unbiased source who I hadn't spoken to about how I felt, that I hadn't changed a single bit since the surgery.

You realized that the things you were blaming on me and my lack of hormones were caused by the stress of my attempting desperately to placate you so you wouldn't be angry with me.

And you talked to me. You actually talked to me about it. You told me that it upset you that I had changed so much for you, that you had fallen in love with the strong and capable woman that I was before we started dating, and that you'd give anything to have her back again. You apologized for all that you had done, and not done since my surgery, and swore to try your hardest to be the man I deserved.

Since that talk, things have been nearly even, almost equal in our home. Work, talk, time together, love, affection... It has all returned in a shared and mutual way, and, even though we are both sick right now, and working hard to finish getting ready for a big business event, even the stress of that is rolling off your back. And you aren't taking things out on me anymore, or blaming me for our problems. You are working hard to say positive things, even though it is not in you nature to do so, and it still comes out wrong. You're honestly trying, because you really want this to work, and you really do love me.

You can never get back the time in which you could have pampered and cared for me after my surgery, the time when I most needed your emotional support, and I accept that. I hope you can too, and that you can forgive yourself for your shortcomings during that most difficult time in our lives.

But I know that you mean what you said, and I trust that we can now get through this together, no matter what hardships life may throw at us. We will grow together, into better people. All because you finally saw the truth with clear eyes, and promised to make a change. Not to me, but a promise to yourself.

Everyone else can see it too, the difference in you, and the difference in how I act around you. My friends have mentioned how they didn't think our relationship was going to work out before, but how they're hopeful for our future now. That's because of you, my love. You initiated a change in yourself, and in our relationship, that will last us the rest of our lives, no matter what the future may hold.

Finally, I have hope. For us, for our future, and for our family. I'm going to lay the blame for that squarely on your shoulders.

Thank you.