Stop sugarcoating, but be polite.
What do I want?
What do I want to do?
Why am I stuck?
What’s more important than my own happiness?
Questions not to ask:
Do I deserve to be happy?
Am I good enough?
Can I do this?
Sometimes, we just have to start a real conversation with ourselves and stop beating around the bush. Be polite and sincere, and treat yourself as you’d treat someone you…
Maybe I should change my email to GloriaZTheHardworkingBee@Gmail.com. I wonder if that’s taken… it rhymes, so that’s pretty sweet (pun intended).
Anyway, I’m looking. So, hi.
Download here (PDF): Gloria Zhu_Resume
I don’t think Wendy would’ve had a very good time staying in Wonderland forever. She was ready to grow up, she just needed some time to mull that over.
Sometimes, I find myself thinking about my own childhood dreams (‘when I grow up, I want to be…’), and if I just pursued them, how much happier I would be. If I just stayed with my own version of Wonderland, oh, how the skies would be so much…
Last night while sitting around and pondering the misfortune of my weight gain yet again (this happens at least twice a year during a good year), I forced myself to look at the big picture. Over the past year or so, my weight directly correlated with my…
We all have days where the skies seem greyer, the road ahead seems endless, and every passing second is a mere reminder of your continuing unhappiness. And telling someone about this vague feeling of misery just ends up being you ranting about nothing at…
I wish I never had to eat again.
I don’t think I’ve felt this depressed in a long time. Sadness feels like a sickness, and it’s made me tired, wilted, and bitter. That’s how I feel on the inside. It’s okay though because none of this is on the outside.
The pursuit of courage is a tough one. Self pity is a disease. Whenever I try to ask for help, the words that come out sound like excuses. Every day feels like a struggle.
I wanted a love story. The sort of aching, vulnerable, reluctant-but-inevitable-submission-into love found in the pages of Jane Eyre or Pride and Prejudice. I thought love would be poetry and English fields, even though I’ve never even been to England nor did I marry Mr. Darcy.
The occasion of…
I love this.