i remember when the handmaids first came around. it seems like quite some time has passed now and my memory doesn't serve me the best, but i do remember. For the longest time i held the greatest hate for them, although i am ashamed that was the case. I realize this hate was formed dirrectly from my vishious jealousy of the handmaids, yet i would never admit it. But i don't regert my hate, for i feel completely dignified in my anger and jealousy of the women that sleep with my love, my all, the one i worked for so hard and couldn't be without, no i feel utterly justified, although i no longer have that hate. As i think back though, i realize that i no doubt would still have a thorough hatred of the handmaids if it weren't for my third handmaid Ofcharley, or Lizzy as i grew to know her as. It seems so long ago but i remember it quite well. We had gathered in the sitting room awaiting my husbands arrival for the ceremony. i felt as if my hatered were about to boil over in a hot mess as we all waited in silence, yet i was shocked when i heard the weak and timid outburst of cries from lizzy. She began to tear uncontrollaby and i was so shocked and pisssed off by her audacity that i cracked at her, shouting more than asking her what was wrong. It took a moment before she looked up but when she did, my eyes met her teary brown ones and she said to me "i'm sorry". And at that moment i could see the saddness and sorrow in her eyes for what she was doing and i could tell that she truely was sorry, and that forever changed my perspective on handmaids.