I Feel Guilty for Resenting the Life I Asked For

Dear Delyara, I wanted children. I wanted family. I wanted a home. I wanted love. I wanted stability. I wanted all the ordinary beautiful things that now, in their exhausting daily form, sometimes make me want to get in the car and keep driving past my own street. What do you do with that contradiction? How do you admit that you are worn raw by things you once prayed for without sounding monstrous or ungrateful or spoiled by the very life somebody else would gladly take? I don’t know. I only know guilt is always waiting for me inside that question. And still, the resentment exists. Not all the time. Enough that I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t.