Feminism has become a prominent movement within our society, but that does not mean it’s accepted and embraced without question. Its growing intensity over the last few years has been both celebrated and insulted, and its demands for wage equality, body image positivity, and women empowerment has been considered extreme.
You understand that time cannot possibly reverse itself, and so, in all the glory of your grief, you curse yourself for your inability to make amends and your remarkable lack of appreciation of their existence.
I have so much to be thankful for, and to be honest; I could not find any crack in my life that I am discontented with. I can’t. So why do I have this constant feeling that it is not enough? Why do I feel like there are greater things for me that I somehow cannot see? In the recesses of my heart there is a missing puzzle piece, and the thought that I might never discover it frightens me to my bones.
He will invest too much and too soon in our relationship while I spend every minute doubting his intentions and, of course, my own feelings. I can read them like a book, and I treat them as a character while I write the plot, which, as I’ve come to realized, is usually set against them.