The Story Behind my Writing 

Illness, Love, and Learning to Accept Care

The story behind my writing began with questions that became deeply personal: What happens when we keep pushing beyond our limits? How do our early experiences shape the way we treat ourselves? And can we accept love when we feel we have little left to give?

This is the story of my husband—and of what we have been learning together.

When Doing More Never Felt Like Enough

For years, he worked beyond his limits. This began long before he met the woman who would become his wife. He took on more and more tasks, stayed late, and helped others. He did not know how to say no. He wanted to be the best and kept raising the bar for himself.

At the time, he did not realize that he struggled to set boundaries or that work was taking up too much space in his life. What he saw, above all, were responsibilities and expectations. People respected him. Few people worked as carefully and precisely as he did.

Even vacations brought no real rest. He excelled at sports, but they became another race against himself. Faster. Farther. Better times. Instead of slowing down, he pushed himself harder.

From the outside, people saw a man who was fit, helpful, and exceptionally hardworking. What was much harder to see was how little room he gave himself to feel tired or say no. He struggled to accept that he did not always have to do more.

In his pursuit of the best version of himself, he grew increasingly disconnected from his own feelings and needs. He knew more and more about who he was supposed to be, and less and less about who he really was.

Understanding Was Only the Beginning

He began reading God’s Word and gradually making changes in his life. Yet he still did not see how difficult it was for him to treat himself with the same love he showed others. Caring for others came more easily than taking his own needs and limits into account.

He was gaining insight, but he still expected more of himself than he could realistically manage. He did not yet recognize how deeply his lack of self-acceptance influenced his choices. Knowledge alone was not enough to change the way he treated himself.

Only later, in therapy, did he begin to understand the history behind some of his reactions.

How Childhood Shaped His Relationship With Himself

He was one of five children. His father was overwhelmed by work, household responsibilities, and raising children. He could be aggressive and quick-tempered.

The family shared a home with his paternal grandparents. Much was expected of the boy, but he lacked the acceptance and attention he needed. His mother remained in the background. The hurtful way her mother-in-law treated her was part of everyday life, too.

In that home, you had to be strong. No crying. No showing weakness or feelings.

What he remembered most was work and demands. Only years later did he begin to recognize what had been missing from his childhood: attention, care, and closeness that felt safe.

As a boy, he did not know that he did not have to earn these things. Sometimes we do not know what was missing because we do not know we had a right to need it.

Recognizing Perfectionism and Learning About Boundaries

In therapy, he began to recognize his perfectionism, workaholism, and difficulty setting boundaries. He noticed how much he took personally and how unfamiliar closeness could feel.

He began to see that what he had once thought of as simply his personality had a history, too. As he came to understand that history, he slowly learned that he did not have to define himself solely through work, helping others, and meeting expectations.

When Serious Illness Changed Everyday Life

After many years of pushing himself beyond his limits, he became seriously ill. The man who had once been exceptionally fit could no longer get up. Literally.

At times, the pain was so severe that he could not walk. He struggled to breathe. Months passed, but test after test failed to explain what was happening to him. His symptoms were real, even though answers were slow to come.

Illness took away his physical abilities, his independence, and his ability to work—the things he had built his life around for years. He could no longer provide for his family. Once, he had helped others; now, he needed care himself.

He felt he was no longer needed. It was hard for him to recognize his own worth when he no longer had as much to offer as before.

He longed to regain his strength, but his body would not cooperate. He did not know whether he would recover. It became harder and harder to believe that things would get better.

Depression and the Question of Self-Worth

Over time, he developed depression, which grew increasingly severe. Helplessness and the loss of hope that he would recover also led to thoughts of suicide. He was admitted to a clinic, where he received help and began therapy.

He had to face a question he had never asked himself before:

Who am I when I can no longer do all these things?

His wife was by his side. She loved him even when he felt that, without work and the ability to provide for his family, he was worth very little.

She, too, lived with uncertainty, searching for ways to stay close through the bad times, the worse times, and the hardest moments of all.

Discovering His Sensitivity, Feelings, and Needs

During treatment and therapy, he slowly began to reconnect with himself—with his feelings, needs, and boundaries.

He learned that he was a highly sensitive person. He had never suspected that sensitivity could be part of who he was. After all, strength was what mattered in the home where he grew up.

He was beginning to discover who he was beneath those old demands—someone he was only just learning to treat with care.

At first came anger and disappointment. It hurt to see what had been missing. Gradually, though, he began to feel relief as well. He understood his reactions better and discovered that he could respond to his own needs differently.

Learning to Accept Love and Care

His wife stayed by his side over the years that followed. She reassured him of her love and showed it in small gestures.

Accepting that care did not come naturally to him. He needed time to stop pushing it away and allow his wife to support him.

She wanted him to have room to change without fearing that he would lose their relationship if he did not improve quickly enough. She wanted him to get to know himself without worrying that what he discovered would cost him her love.

After four years of facing the long-term effects of COVID-19 and depression together, he was able to accept kindness and care in a way he had not before.

He is still recovering. Progress is not always visible from one day to the next. But when they look back, they see an enormous difference between where they were and where they are today.

A Story That Is Still Unfolding

Their story is still unfolding—a story of learning that you can be loved even when you struggle to see your own worth.

They are learning to be close in a way that makes room for their limitations, their feelings, and their shared plans. Hope for the future is returning.

They look ahead, trusting that the days to come will bring more strength, peace, and joy in being together.

How These Experiences Shaped My Books

These experiences gave new meaning to questions I had been exploring for years. They became part of the story behind my writing.

In Why Am I the Way I Am? — The Hidden Costs of Stress, I explore how childhood experiences, sensitivity, and stress shape our reactions and our relationship with ourselves.

In I’m Me. You’re You., I explore how we can build closeness while respecting each person’s needs, boundaries, and imperfections.

I write as a woman, a wife, and someone who is still learning. Perhaps some of the questions that brought me here are questions you have asked yourself, too.