Island gyal at heart โค๏ธ๐ด๐ง๐พโโ๏ธ Canadian living in the UK. I have no patience and alot of emotions. nomad. cancer. she/her. black. Tech. rip sim x ๐ฌ๐ง๐
The sad thing about LOVE LANGUAGES is that you could genuinely love someone with your entire heart, but they will never feel it. They may know it, but never feel it, because the way you express your love isn't how they receive love.
The wildest part about POVERTY is how much time it steals. Waiting for buses. Calling assistance offices. Comparing grocery prices. Fighting insurance. Sitting at laundromats. Being poor is a second job nobody pays you for.
tolerating always turns into resentment. at first, you call it patience, then love. but what it really is, is self abandonment. every time you swallow a boundary, excuse a pattern or silence your discomfort, something inside you keeps score. eventually, the bill comes due.
The older I get, the more I realise that someone making time for you is one of the clearest signs they care. Everyone is busy. Everyone has responsibilities and their own battles to fight. So when someone consistently chooses to spend their time with you, checks on you and makes space for you in their life, it means something. Time is the one thing we can never get back and people don't give it away lightly.
I think one of the greatest signs a woman's nervous system is healing is that she starts becoming interested in life again. Not in optimizing it. Not in fixing herself. In living it. She wants to host dinner parties, buy fresh flowers, learn pottery, stay out dancing, read novels, flirt with the barista, and wander bookstores for no reason other than it feels good to be alive.