top of page


Updated: Jan 1, 2022

The gift that doesn’t really feel like a gift…

The gift I have ignored, suppressed, and shoved away from me.

The gift I have many times just WISHED would GO AWAY.


The twisting of my stomach, when someone wants something from me for the thousandth time.

The pang of anger at 2am, when the phone rings and someone felt their needs were more important than my badly needed sleep.

The heaviness in my heart, when someone tells me I am the ONLY one they can trust - the only one they can lean on in their hard times.

The frustrated sighs, when the voicemails, emails, and messages roll in, asking for pieces of me I was not prepared to give.

The tightness in my chest, when everyone - again - expects me to handle the crisis, pick up the pieces, and make everything right again.

The suffocation, when entitlement of my time and assumptions of my energy seem like the norm.

The eye roll, when repeated requests for my money were made, my needs an afterthought.

The tears and betrayal, when discovering missing items from my home.

The heaviness on my shoulders, when holding the burden of others addictions, illnesses, traumas, inadequacies, and insecurities.

The anxious worry, when looking at the toll “helping” other people was taking on my finances.

The numbness in my voice, when attending every doctor appointment, hospital stay, and managing every crisis, never for myself but for the endless barrage of need around me.

The sharp sting in my soul, when a cutting remark or cruel joke was directed at me.

Resentment. So inconvenient. So bothersome.

For many years, I coped with resentment by pushing it aside. I, like many other people, thought resentment was a problem of mine. A sin. A defect of character.

If I was more holy, I would be able to be more selfless.

If I was more compassionate, I could give more.

If I was more kind, I could stop caring about my own feelings.

But judging myself more did not make the resentment go away.

Ignoring and shoving it away never stopped it from coming back even stronger.


All along, resentment was my most inconvenient friend. It was begging me - pleading with me - to stop betraying myself. It was a constant, nagging reminder of my own worth.

I still often find myself listing every excuse not to listen to it.

It’s ok just this once.

It will pass.

I can tolerate until _______.

If it doesn’t change, then I will do something about it.

I’ll address it later…

Small compromises. Tiny little ways I find to tell myself betraying myself isn’t really that bad… this time.

Guys, self-worth takes constant vigilance. Constant honesty. Constant courage.

At what level are you willing to honor yourself today? Do you experience resentment? Are you willing to listen to that inconvenient voice of resentment, with so much wisdom?

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page