After surgery, I couldn’t even dress myself. I was afraid he’d see me differently—but instead, I saw how love and respect can deepen when we’re most vulnerable.
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After my knee surgery, I couldn’t even make my own tea. I hated it. I kept thinking, “Will he see me differently now?” But every time he knelt down to put on my socks or smiled while brushing my hair, I saw something else: devotion. His respect never came from what I did, but from who I was. Needing him didn’t take away my dignity—it deepened our bond.