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Who could possibly see me stripped bare—exposed, vulnerable, unedited—and find something beautiful?
“You say sorry way too much.” “Yeah, sorry, should work on that.”
In many ways, it seems counter to who I am—the careful girl who aims to avoid pain and confrontation at all costs.
It’s always so strange to know you’re saying things you wouldn’t say sober and yet literally be unable to stop yourself.
There’s something recognizable about the way she moves through the world, and I wonder if she ever feels like I do, the relentless pull of orienting yourself toward the opinions of other people.
I want him to tell me that my work is also good. I want the reassurance that I’m special, that I can make something out of a blank page. That I’m substance over style.
I’ll beg him to like me, contorting myself into some false person who will eventually disappoint him. Or, when things get to be too much, I’ll push him away. Just like I’m doing now.
You could do so much more, but you’re standing in your own way.”
It’s the situation with Will, and it’s the stubborn dehydration of someone who refuses to drink water on a plane lest she have to ask the person in the aisle seat to get up for her to pee.
“Your first reaction, when someone ignores you, is to assume that there’s something wrong with you. You assign your self-worth based on your perception of what others think about you.”
I’m not good at persevering through rejection. It’s so much work and I am clearly terrible at dealing with it. Look at me. I was told no and now I’m sitting on pee-soaked tile crying to my idol.”
“So I’m just supposed to do this forever?” “Fall and get back up? Yeah, I think so. What other choice do we have, you know?”
I recommend getting used to being more vulnerable. It’ll feel uncomfortable at first, exposing yourself, but it gets easier over time and there’s really no downside. Only good things come out of being yourself and asking for what you need.”

