When I was a child, I saw the beauty of suffering. I loved movies and stories of angst. To me, there was strength in enduring discomfort. 

 

But as I got older, I began to see that those who allow themselves to suffer, are only rewarded with more expectations of sacrifice. 

 

The Martyr.

 

They are only truly valued, symbolically, when they have exhausted every aspect of their being in servitude.

 

Only when you have nothing left to give will you receive flowers on your grave.