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Home Individuality You must manage yourself before you can lead someone else.

IndividualityLife ExperiencesManagementPersonal Development

You must manage yourself before you can lead someone else.

Polly, January 24, 2013

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Tags : Zig Ziglar

When someone we love is having difficulty and is giving us a bad time, it’s better to explore the cause than to criticize the action.

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You will make a lousy anybody else, but you will be the best “you” in existence.

Polly

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A snake lurks in the grass.

A snake lurks in the grass.

Maybe I couldn’t make it. Maybe I don’t have a pretty smile, good teeth, nice tits, long legs, a cheeky ass, a sexy voice. Maybe I don’t know how to handle men and increase my market value, so that the rewards due to the feminine will accrue to me. Then again, maybe I’m sick of the masquerade. I’m sick of pretending eternal youth. I’m sick of belying my own intelligence, my own will, my own sex. I’m sick of peering at the world through false eyelashes, so everything I see is mixed with a shadow of bought hairs; I’m sick of weighting my head with a dead mane, unable to move my neck freely, terrified of rain, of wind, of dancing too vigorously in case I sweat into my lacquered curls. I’m sick of the Powder Room. I’m sick of pretending that some fatuous male’s self-important pronouncements are the objects of my undivided attention, I’m sick of going to films and plays when someone else wants to, and sick of having no opinions of my own about either. I’m sick of being a transvestite. I refuse to be a female impersonator. I am a woman, not a castrate.

Maybe I couldn’t make it. Maybe I don’t have a pretty smile, good teeth, nice tits, long legs, a cheeky ass, a sexy voice. Maybe I don’t know how to handle men and increase my market value, so that the rewards due to the feminine will accrue to me. Then again, maybe I’m sick of the masquerade. I’m sick of pretending eternal youth. I’m sick of belying my own intelligence, my own will, my own sex. I’m sick of peering at the world through false eyelashes, so everything I see is mixed with a shadow of bought hairs; I’m sick of weighting my head with a dead mane, unable to move my neck freely, terrified of rain, of wind, of dancing too vigorously in case I sweat into my lacquered curls. I’m sick of the Powder Room. I’m sick of pretending that some fatuous male’s self-important pronouncements are the objects of my undivided attention, I’m sick of going to films and plays when someone else wants to, and sick of having no opinions of my own about either. I’m sick of being a transvestite. I refuse to be a female impersonator. I am a woman, not a castrate.

The guy says, “When you work where I work, by the time you get home it’s late. You’ve got to have a bite to eat, watch a little TV, relax, and get to bed. You can’t sit up half the night planning, planning, planning.” And he’s the same guy who’s behind on his car payment.

The guy says, “When you work where I work, by the time you get home it’s late. You’ve got to have a bite to eat, watch a little TV, relax, and get to bed. You can’t sit up half the night planning, planning, planning.” And he’s the same guy who’s behind on his car payment.

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.

The best way to raise positive children in a negative world is to have positive parents who love them unconditionally and serve as excellent role models.

The best way to raise positive children in a negative world is to have positive parents who love them unconditionally and serve as excellent role models.

Evil often triumphs, but never conquers

Evil often triumphs, but never conquers

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