I don’t think it was my fault. She pushed it to the limit, and I felt embarrassed of what I had done. She made me feel like what I had was not good or aesthetic enough. So much so that she had to go through all the trouble just to get it done, simply because mine wouldn’t be pretty enough for the picture. 

It was hurtful, to be honest. What I’d done might not have been much in comparison to hers, but it was the best I could do, and I’d done it with love. Ideally, that should be enough, but it clearly isn’t. And it’s not even the disagreement; it’s the cold, silent treatment afterwards that was brutal. I’d simply gotten upset over how she made me feel, and when I expressed that, she was upset over me apparently taking it ‘personally’. Why are you taking it so personally? she asked. I don’t know how else I should take it when it is indeed personal. What comes from me is personal to me; therefore, the way you criticize it will be taken personally. Especially when it wasn’t just one instance but a series. 

You know, I’ve always had this idea that if you loved people and cared for them, you couldn’t be cruel to them. Even if you were upset with them. And those that can be cruel don’t probably love or care for you in the way you might have thought. This is a lovely lesson to learn the second time around. God knows the amount of therapy I needed to recover from the first one. Standing up to someone who’s used to getting their way is honestly terrifying. Constant condescension can be a hard pit to climb out of.