Tag: Thought Catalog

Tell Me What You Did Today, And I’ll Tell You Where You’ll Be In 10 Years

By Brianna Wiest

Via~Thought Catalog

The second deepest human fear is the unknown. The first is unknown suffering, or being in ongoing pain without understanding why.

Our objective in life is split, and a direct response to those two things: to avoid pain, and pursue pleasure. But mostly, it is to try to make the unknown known. It’s why we look to stars and palms and spirit guides, cards and natal charts. It’s why we’re hung up on finding our “soulmates,” our dream jobs, our perfect towns and cities.

The truth is that we put an unbelievable amount of stock into what the world can tell us about where will be down the line, when the answer is so plainly in front of us.

Perhaps that’s what we’re running from.

If you tell me what you did today, I will tell you where you’ll be in 10 years. Not because you are destined to stay where you are. Not because you’re incapable of change. Not because you are doomed to repeat the past.

I can tell you where you’ll be in a decade because the subtle behaviors in your daily routine — and whether or not you stick to them — are the building blocks of your future life. I can tell you where you’ll be because your words are telling me. I can tell you where you’ll be because you will ultimately become exactly what you are. “Character is fate,” as it were. Your life will grow to reflect precisely what’s happening in your head. Continue reading “Tell Me What You Did Today, And I’ll Tell You Where You’ll Be In 10 Years”

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9 Things You Need To Know Before Dating An Outgoing Introvert

Described perfectly. I think I’m going to keep this article handy for potential dates 🙉

By Victoria Joslin,

http://tcat.tc/2lZwGJG

“I don’t know how to be anything other than intense. I don’t know how to experience without feeling too much and thinking too much. I am always searching, always questioning, and always trying to find the meaning in everything. I am passionate and I am deep, and sometimes I am misunderstood, but I am finally okay with that.”

So, the world has introverts and the world has extroverts, and then there’s us. Falling somewhere in between the lines.

We find people intriguing, but insanely exhausting.

We like adventures, but love peace and quiet.

We want to go out, but need to mentally prepare ourselves.

We are terrible at texting back, but can sit and listen to someone speak for hours.

We are outgoing introverts.

Continue reading “9 Things You Need To Know Before Dating An Outgoing Introvert”

You Have To Experience The Wrong Kind Of Love, In Order To Appreciate It When It’s Right

I can relate.

You Have To Experience The Wrong Kind Of Love, In Order To Appreciate It When It’s Right

When I was sixteen, love was hidden within pain. It was the knowledge of something so real, and so big, a little too early, before love even knew how to react to a girl who felt so deeply. So instead, love was “You’re ugly” and “I’d never date someone like you.” Love was “You have fat thighs” and years of verbal abuse. Yet love was something I still felt through the torment, it was an immature heart playing with my own, and years later even an apology wouldn’t scrub away the confusion of its game. Love was hurt.

When I was nineteen, love was a boy with too many options. Love was canceled plans and one-sided effort. Love was convenience and a different bed in every city. Love was apathy, until the options went away. Then love was an abundance of determination, a sudden knowledge of how valuable my heart was. Love was “Now that I don’t have anything else going on, I can commit to you.” Love was “Now that you are growing into your own, now that you have attention, I am finally ready to claim you before anyone else does.” Love was selfish. Love was too little too late.

When I was twenty-three, love was a spontaneous unknown; a need to believe in two people beating the odds. Love was a contradiction. It was turbulence and nights under New York City. It was “I miss you, but I don’t have the time to call you right now.” It was “I can’t wait to see you, but until then I’ll fill my time with other prospects.” It was “You are the woman who inspires me, who makes me want to be a better man, but I am not going to fight for this.” It was “You are everything to me, but I am busy.” Love was always busy.

And then, when I was twenty-four, love finally introduced itself to me. It said, “I am sorry for what you have been through, but you needed to experience everything I was not, in order to appreciate everything that I truly am.”

Suddenly, love was mornings spent laughing until I cried. It was having someone make time for me. Love was airport gates until it turned into “I am moving across the country to be with you.” Love was “After work I’m driving for two hours just to fall asleep in your arms” and “I want to give you everything you deserve; I want to show you just how much someone can adore you.” Love was whole. It was assured, it existed within certainty and ruthless declaration. It wasn’t built on the foundation of empty promises, it wasn’t bred from pain, or confusion, or apathy. Love was bred from choice. From maturity, from presence. Love was suddenly more beautiful than I had ever imagined, something that blew every old feeling and past name away in the path it was forging. Love was peace.

After all of those years, love was finally peace.
Love was finally real.

Via~ Thought Catalog

Bianca Sparacino 

 

 

Photo credit ~ http://saites.info