That's MY Problem

"I really love the bread you make," I say. "But sometimes, when I think you're upset, or having a bad day, I don't ask you to make it."

Katie keeps cleaning the glass of the frames she bought at the thrift store as I say, "Really, it's not that I'm some kind of martyr, though - it's my low self-esteem that keeps me from asking for what I really want."

She wisely doesn't reply.