“You’ve changed,” he says through gritted teeth and with such resentment it stings her deeper than he imagined it would.

She hung her head low, insulted and hurt.  Perhaps she is too much: too much a mother, too much a wife, too much a teacher, and not enough of herself. Perhaps the anxiety of all of these roles crashing upon her life at the same time are too much for him to accept. 

“Perhaps this isn’t what he signed up for,” she thinks to herself and apologizes to him profusely.  

She ramps up the role of wife, thinking this is what he needs.  She takes more from his plate and puts it onto hers.  She watches TEDTalks about balance, about motherhood, about being a good wife.  She texts friends asking about what they might have done in the same position.  She tries those things. 

Yet, he’s still not happy.  

Yes, she’s changed.

Her body has given and sustained life.  Her hips have widened. She stares at jeans that she aspires to return to often. Believe me, she knows that she’s changed – she’s reminded of this every time she longs for clothes because they fit her style and not her ever growing belly.  She doesn’t need you to remind her this through your pursed lips and sharp teeth. 

Her friendships have evolved or in some cases, died completely.  These girls saw the change and hated how it inconvenienced them. She’s cried into her pillow at night while you watched TV downstairs.  She’s been low and picked herself up.  She will do this time and time again; each time she does she changes a little. 

 She has laid awake at night worrying about things that may never happen.  She has gone without sleep for months at a time.  She’s been called a bitch, a stress-case, and judged for missing deadlines, appointments, and putting off responsibilities.  She judges herself harder than anyone else could so perhaps you should back off.

She’s created life, a home, and managed her career. The girl who was carefree and hopped a plane, following her passion, now builds her home here.  Her relics from a previous life slowly taken off the walls as the newest family photos are put up in their places.  Each travel souvenir that gets carefully wrapped and packed away reminds her of her previous life. She doesn’t need you to remind her that she’s not that girl anymore.

“You’ve changed,” he says through gritted teeth and with such resentment it lights a fire in her soul.  

“Yes,” she responds. “I’ve changed.  You really should have kept up”