Becoming A Woman
Becoming a woman means:
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I don’t quit when the first wave of pain hits. Instead, I take a deep breath and soldier on through the last 10 reps of push-ups, dead lifts, crunches and/or lunges.
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I don’t go on to the next chapter even though I desperately want to know when Marissa discovers that ‘darling’ Jeff did kill her husband. Instead, I close the book, turn off my night light and go to sleep coz I’ve got work in the morning.
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I don’t lose it when someone is too lazy to do their work and we’re right at the deadline. Instead, I do their work, meet the deadline, go home, get some rest and plan the perfect revenge. After all, Lazybones must be taught a lesson.
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I don’t eat the cake just because I want it. Instead, I eat it because it counts as a meal if I don’t eat much else with it. Plus, if I don’t eat it, someone else with a slower metabolism might and ruin their diet.
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I don’t squirm or cringe when the pointy, high-heeled shoes begin to hurt. Instead, I school my face into a serene expression, curl my toes (as much as possible), walk softly and wait till the first opportunity to trash the good-for-nothing shoes.
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I don’t waste a lot of time thinking of what they would think of me if I said no. Instead, I ask myself these questions: ‘Is it life or death?’, ‘Can I do it?’, ‘Do I want to do it?’, ‘Do I owe the requestor anything?’, ‘Will I gain anything?’ Then I give my answer.
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I don’t indulge myself as much as I would like. Instead, I will stop writing here coz Damola said 300 words or less. 290 words.