And you reel that songbird in.
I’m glad I have friends who challenge me, rather than yessing me to death; friends who care about me enough to call me on my shit when they see that it’s far from Shinola. As painful as it can be at the time, I’m always thankful for it in retrospect.
Don’t get me wrong—we all need to have friends and loved ones we can rely on for empathic commiseration. But ideally, there needs to be a balance. Misery truly does love company, and unfortunately, that’s not always the best appetite to indulge. I’m realizing how incredibly lucky I am to have people in my life who seem to know when they need to indulge me, and when they need to kick me in the ass. Both have value, and both can be painful (yes, even the indulgence). Though in truth, these friends o' mine don't really do any ass-kicking themselves; rather, they gently offer another perspective, which often results in an ass-kicking of the self-inflicted variety. The best kind, really.
Don’t get me wrong—we all need to have friends and loved ones we can rely on for empathic commiseration. But ideally, there needs to be a balance. Misery truly does love company, and unfortunately, that’s not always the best appetite to indulge. I’m realizing how incredibly lucky I am to have people in my life who seem to know when they need to indulge me, and when they need to kick me in the ass. Both have value, and both can be painful (yes, even the indulgence). Though in truth, these friends o' mine don't really do any ass-kicking themselves; rather, they gently offer another perspective, which often results in an ass-kicking of the self-inflicted variety. The best kind, really.
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