I can only love him in a different way now.
Sometimes, we tend to get down on ourselves. Things may not be going our way or we may not have accomplished everything we thought we would have by this age.
For some, it’s hard to accept being “deserving” of happiness. Deserving of a good man or woman in life. Deserving of actually being treated with love and respect.
Here are five reasons you deserve the best life can offer you.
You work hard.
Seriously, life is hard. You spend 18-22 years of your life in school, only to leave school to start a job, or a business.
You get up early every day, plow through your work day, find yourself somehow back home after a daze-filled evening commute, and probably hit the sheets early to get up and do it all again.
You deserve things and people in your life who make you smile. You deserve to have something…
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She was always the first one to notice.
“You’re bleeding again!” she’d yelp as she dug through her backpack for a Band-Aid. No matter how many times I drew blood, I never learned to carry them around with me. When she was there, I never had to.
She learned to solve a Rubik’s cube somehow. I was too impatient to figure it out on my own, so she taught me too. “It’ll give you something to do with your hands,” she said. “So you won’t destroy your fingers.”
My history teacher took it away because I wasn’t paying attention. She handed me a Band-Aid, marched up to the teacher, and got it back. “You need this,” she whispered as she slid it across my desk. I spent the rest of class quietly spinning the faces of the cube under the table. I didn’t need the Band-Aid, but it was…
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One of the most difficult aspects of living in the UK is the bizarre mix of box-ticking politeness with genuine emotional reserve.
In other words, while almost everyone will ask, ‘how are you?’, the only acceptable answer is ‘fine thank you, how are you?’
Perhaps we should just invert the meaning of ‘fine’?
On a black dog day, this presents a problem. Either you break social convention and cause widespread panic:
‘Oh, the usual mix of abject misery and thoughts of self-harm, how about you?‘
Or, you lie.
In the short term, lying seems like the obvious option. For one thing, it creates less paperwork. I once made the mistake of being brutally honest with a colleague about my desires to end my life. Within a few hours I was being invited (that’s the British for ‘ordered’) to have a chat with both human resources and occupational health…
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I am something you don’t read about very often… part-time, adjunct faculty… and happy. This is not the career I had in mind when I started my PhD program; the only career goal I’ve ever had was to be a scientist and professor. But as I neared the end of my program, I realized that my dream job might not be compatible with my overall dream life.
I started my PhD program single, childless and ambitious, ready to throw myself over to the process and lovestruck with the culture of ecology. I followed every piece of advice. I applied for grants, was awarded a fellowship, published, and by all accounts was poised to “make it” – post-doc then tenure-track job. But a few years can change a lot, and other priorities began to creep in.
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