Wyndi
I am a Heartless Bitch because I decided to become one, then put in the legwork to get it done. I'm one when I'm painting my nails hot pink, or picking up a hundred pound box; it's not my surface that makes me a Heartless Bitch - it's the depths of my character. I began as a people pleaser and general doormat for people with axes to grind, but it didn't take to long to realize that people pleasers die early and exhausted, and doormats get muddy and thrown away. Now I please myself first, those I care about second, my job third, and everyone else a distant forth. I got tired of apologizing for my strength, my intellect, or my opinions, so I stopped. I got tired of mind games and backstabbing, so I stopped my part of it (yes, I was part of the problem) and I stopped listening to it. I got tired of the labels people tried to force on me, so I stopped using or acknowledging them. My world's more complicated now, but I like it that way.
Yes! I want to read more from Real Life Heartless Bitches
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