Shyames

“If I want to ‘spoil’ you, I will. Since when is opening doors for a woman spoiling her?” He lifted his hand and brushed his thumb across my bottom lip, just as he had in his office. “You haven’t begun to learn what spoiling is.”
― Abby London, Donut Girl and the Bosshole

“November 1 SINGING YOUR OWN PRAISES “Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.” —A. A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh As an introvert, you might have grown up feeling anything but grateful for your personality. You tried to cure your introversion by mimicking extroverted behavior. Of course, this didn’t work because you can’t fix what isn’t broken. You are an introvert. You like people, but sometimes you like your alone time more. You think deeply and choose your words carefully. You enjoy different pastimes than the extrovert down the street. None of this makes you a bad person. In fact, there are billions of other people who share your preferences. So, let’s try a different approach, shall we? Let’s try on a little self-acceptance for size. Instead of trying to fix or cure, let’s celebrate our strengths. For the longest time, I saw my quietness as a fatal flaw, a sign that I was not friendly or feminine enough. Now, I see it as just another piece of the intricate mosaic that is my personality. Alongside my quietness, there is also intuition, wisdom, and an ability to read between the lines. Sure, I speak slowly and pause often, but I am singing on the inside. Those who matter can hear my silent song. This month’s entries will help you to see the beauty in your introverted nature and guide you toward singing your own praises (quietly, of course).”
― Michaela Chung, The Year of the Introvert: A Journal of Daily Inspiration for the Inwardly Inclined

“A family shouldn't fall apart because you're making one choice they don't understand.”
― Elle Rivers, As It Was

“I wasn't a morning person, but life seemed to only reward morning people. I tried to get to the office at eight, but it took me thirty minutes every morning to go five miles from the apartment to work, meaning I had to be up by seven every weekday.”
― Elle Rivers, As It Was