My wife sat beside me while I learned to inject myself

Dear Delyara, I developed a condition that requires regular injections, and I am terrified of needles. For the first few months, my wife gave them to me. I would look away, complain, sometimes swear at her even though she was helping. Eventually, I wanted to learn because depending on her for every injection made me afraid of travel, work trips, or simply being alone. The nurse showed me several times. In the clinic, I could do it. At home, my hand froze. One evening, I sat at the kitchen table with the injector pressed against my skin for forty minutes. My wife sat opposite me. Every few minutes I told her to just do it. She said, “I will if you really want me to, but I think you want me to stay while you do it yourself.” She was right, which annoyed me. Eventually, I pressed the button. I cried afterward from relief and embarrassment. She kissed my forehead and asked whether I wanted pasta. No applause. No joke about bravery. Today, six months later, I injected myself while she was upstairs. I shouted, “Done.” She yelled back, “Well done, needle coward.” I laughed. Love did not remove the fear for me. It gave me someone patient enough not to rescue me before I had the chance to discover I could do the frightening thing myself.