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My past relationships with women were terrible, horrendous, appalling, disgraceful... I can keep going but I won't. I honestly thought it was fine and didn’t see anything wrong with it. Unfortunately it was more toxic than I thought. Was I blind ? Maybe. If my life turned into a book and everyone bought a copy and read my story from beginning to present, the reader will conclude that I was a victim. A victim who never seen his parents display much empathy towards each other. Thus, creating a significant lack of empathy in my household all together. When it dawned on me that I became a victim of my own story, l realized that l was never in control. My story was being written by my circumstances. I was subconsciously always choosing the road that had the least empathy, the most emotional resistance, and the least emotional effort. I expressed myself as little as possible; especially with a woman.

The solution?

Become the author. The mastery of self involves tracing the rudiments of the problems we shelter, then exposing it to the dazzling light of our potential. But one cannot transform into all that they can be without addressing their problems with humbleness and humility. Chopping the branches that constrain you is a temporary fix, for branches regrow. To seek total change, confront the source... the roots.

We do not choose our circumstances all the time but we can choose our reaction. A chain of good reactions welcomes new a vibe. A new vibe allows for new ink. New ink, same pen... Same pen, same author... Same author, new story...

So write that fire.

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