Quotes About Acceptance

From here on out, there's just reality. I think that's what maturity is: a stoic response to endless reality. But then, what do I know?

Someone has to stand still for you to love them. My choices are always on the run.

Having waited my entire life to get an award for something, anything...I now get awards all the time for being mentally ill. It's better than being bad at being insane, right? How tragic would it be to be runner-up for Bipolar Woman of the Year?

And when you're young you want to fit in. Hell, I still want to fit in with certain humans, but as you get older you get a little more discriminating.

I should let people I meet do the work of piecing me together until they can complete, or mostly complete, the puzzle. And when they're finished they can look at the picture that they've managed to piece together and decide whether they like it or not. On their own time. Let them discover you.

if you have a need to be comfortable all the time—well, among other things, you have the makings of a classic drug addict or alcoholic.

I may not take cristicism well, but that doesn't mean I'm not hearing it. I'll hear it later. Right now I'm storing it in my delayed response area, because it's hard for me. I wish I was someone who welcomed cristicism and immediately understood its valeu, but I'm not, and if I look unhappy about this, I am.

People adapt to you. Don't worry, you can't alter what they think of you to any great degree, and by the same token what they think of you can't alter you.

I was something women and men could agree on. They didn't like me in the same way, but they liked me with the same intensity, and were all fine with the other sex liking me, too. Isn't that weird? Think about it. And then stop and ponder something actually important. •

I suspect that no matter what happens I will allow it to hurt me. Eat away at my insides, as it were—as it will be. As it always has been.

You love them until they can't feel loved anymore, then you keep on loving them as if they were still there—as if there's been a reprieve at the last moment and fate has reversed itself. It

My want can only do so much in terms of changing what's actually occuring with other people, and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't want to feel that if I had wanted something more, or had said one other thing, or had worn a different dress, or had been more mysterious, or more open, then I would get something or someone I wouldn't get otherwise.

If my life wasn't funny it would just be true, and that is unacceptable. What that really means, other than what it sounds like, is, let's say something happens and from a certain slant maybe it's tragic, even a little bit shocking. Then time passes and you go to the funny slant, and now that very same thing can no longer do you any harm.

Maybe I shouldn't have given the guy who pumped my stomach my phone number, but who cares? My life is over anyway.

So it stood to reason that if I could disappoint my own father—if I couldn't get my own father to love me enough to stick around or, God forbid, visit more often than one day a year—how was I ever going to get a man who didn't have to love me like daddies were supposed to? (Hey

I loved him and he allowed it

They come dressed in the outfits, and not only are the women in the metal bikini but some men are wearing it, too, and it looks fantastic.

I was something women and men could agree on. They didn't like me in the same way, but they liked me with the same intensity, and were all fine with the other sex liking me, too. Isn't that weird? Think about it. And then stop and ponder something actually important.

Not that I'm a big fan of my face, but still- it is mine, whichever way you tilt it. I didn't like my face when I should have and now it's melted, I look back on that face fondly.

Do I at times wish I'd had a calmer, wiser, and more manageable sort of existence? One that even at times included pauses and yawning? Absolutely. But then who would I be?

I am mentally ill. I can say that. I am not ashamed of that. I survived that, I'm still surviving it, but bring it on. Better me than you.

if what this person told me were true, then I didn't have to actually be comfortable all the time.

Here's what he said: People adapt to you. Don't worry, you can't be what they think of ou to any degree, and by the same token what they think of you can't alter you.

I had endless issues with my appearance in Star Wars. Real ones - not ones you bring up so people think you're humble because you secretly find yourself adorable. What I saw in the mirror is not apparently what many teenage boys saw.