Dealing With Emotional Discomfort


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We feel very deeply.

Our nerves might as well be exposed to the surface, just, you know, twiddling at the air like little inquisitive worms, for all the protection they have.

This is good for creating poignant art and understanding and empathizing people.

It’s not so good for dealing with discomfort.

And by discomfort, I usually mean any painful or embarrassing situations.

Ever accidentally offended someone, and have it eat away at you long after they’ve forgotten about it?

Or have you ever been rejected by the love of your life and felt as if you were dying inside, the pain trickling down through your insides like a river of tiny knives?

Or even if you were just lowered in the opinion of someone you idolize? The shame and despair is like black acid, isn’t it? Corroding your heart.

I used to think that everyone felt everything this keenly. They don’t.

But most importantly, I used to think everyone could see and feel me burning with shame, embarrassment or internal agony.

And they don’t.

See, our bad memories and experiences plague us like a nest of ants run wild in our brains, a swarming, squirming mass of hideous irritation, while for others, they are more like shadows that flit in and out, causing momentary discomfort but nothing reaching fire-and-brimstone levels.

And we assume that other people can also see the ants crawling out of our ears and trailing down the sides of our arms, biting and tearing at our flesh in their thousands, but they don’t.

Part of the reason we agonize so much is because we think that others can see us squirming like a centipede on the inside. By realising that most people don’t have our powers of perception, or choose to employ it to analyse the degree of discomfort others are experiencing, we can free ourselves from self-imposed mental flagellation.

You may feel like you’ll disintegrate from utter shame, but in truth you look perfectly normal and placid to outsiders, if only briefly flustered.

Our minds balloon everything to gigantic proportions, but you’ve got to remember it’s all internal, and quite, quite hidden.

Have you ever been called out for having an unemotional face? The first time I was told this, I balked: after all, there was literally a seething sea of feelings beneath my exterior. But my face gave nothing away. It’s like the calm surface of a sea, beneath which wild sea creatures and octopuses battle out and tussle in tidal waves of disturbance.

So, the next time you want to tear down the world out of sheer agony, remind yourself that people don’t notice how much pain you are in, and, to be honest, don’t really care. They’re all nursing their own wounds anyway.

In the end, shame and embarrassment and rejection and other sources of emotional discomfort will never kill you. I know it hurts. Trust me, I know: it can hurt like the world is on fire, like every inch of your flesh is being scalded by boiling oil, molten drop by drop.

But it will never ever kill you. Eventually, it passes. It’s agony in the moment, but like all pain, it fades in time. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?

You can always pick yourself back up. And it’s always better to risk transient pain than eternal regret.

You’ll be fine.

Career Advice For INFPS


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Careers. Jobs. Money. Suits. Work days.

I don’t know about you, but I’m bloody sick of them.

Such practicalities are often the bane of every INFP’s existence. It seems all our talents are unappreciated by society, and do not translate well into dollar signs. Cha-ching. Why can’t there be a job where we just sit and come up with insights on existence? Why can’t someone be our patron, and pay for our food and shelter until we write the next great American novel?

Yeah. We’re told that we’re ungrateful. Spoilt. All take and no give. That we need to contribute to society just like everyone else. But when society doesn’t give a damn about what we have to offer, to the point where it actually shuns our delicate natures and gifts, what are we meant to do?

Of course, many of us want to become novelists, but we all know how difficult the publishing industry is to get into, and the time it takes to get good enough to sell one’s writing.

Eventually, it gets to the point where we have an existential crisis every time we look at a dollar bill, fondling it with the caution one normally reserves for scraps of Martian skin, and wonder how a FUCKING PIECE OF PAPER (or plastic, depending on where you live) can have such hold over our petty, petty lives. Can restrict our dreams just as much as anything solid or tangible.

How would you feel if gorillas suddenly started trading in bark for fruit that was free for the taking on trees? That’s how ridiculous our capitalist system is. Most of the time, people don’t provide anything of value, and are just there to clock in the hours to make the machine look like it’s running like a dream.

Huh. More like a nightmare.

You ever been on public transport, a public train? Lambs for the slaughter. Dead-eyed people. Crammed in like sardines. Souls hard and lifeless as stones. Bowed, broken people. Doesn’t it just make you sick? Last time I went on the train, I had the overwhelming urge to jump out the window. To scream. Anything but just sit there, another body, another unthinking lump of flesh.

In the end, most of us give in. After all, mortgages exist. Children exist. Empty stomachs, aching for sustenance, exist. Eventually, the stars fizzle out from our eyes, and we settle down, with the deepest of sighs in our souls, and work at a job we most likely loathe, or stifles our creativity, squirreling away bits of time on the side to pursue our passions.

It sends a very clear message to us, doesn’t it?

Your talents are unwanted. Your dreams are unrealistic. Stupid, starry-eyed dreamer.

Grow up. Get a life. Stop whining.

That’s what they always say, don’t they? Each word a knife stabbed and twisted deep in our hearts.

For a long while, I thought the only way for us to survive in this world was to compromise.

But to compromise is to sell a chunk of our soul, and you know it. Compromise does not leave you feeling satisfied. Compromise keeps you in line, obedient, another mediocre little puppy ready to yap on phones and push papers across desks with your nose.

But here’s a thought: why should we have to adapt to the system? Why not find a way to live outside of the system?

This takes COURAGE. Lots and lots of courage. It depends on how badly you want your dream to come true. You’ve got to want it bad. Perseverance and pain. But ultimately, it is the only way you will ever be happy (unless you’re an INFP who prefers the conventional route, in that case, keep up your good work!).

If you want to devote your time to your creative pursuits, be they writing or otherwise, and would rather disembowel yourself than remain in the 9-5 grind, I have a drastic solution for you.

It’s not for the wimps. It’s not for the scared scaredy-cats. And trust me, we’re all scaredy-cats. The only difference between the lion and the scaredy-cat is that the lion pads out into the desert even when it’s frightened, while the scaredy-cat cowers in its suburban home, too afraid to confront the wilderness.

You ready?

You’ve got to find an alternative way of living. One that allows you to devote yourself fully to feeling alive. To your creative pursuits. To whatever that makes your heart sings.

One that will make you excited to wake up in the morning. One that ignites the core of your being with the cool, delicious touch of an angel’s kiss. You’ve got to take the plunge, throw all caution to the wind, and pursue your dream no matter what happens. No matter how hard it gets. No matter what.

This might mean cutting back ALL unnecessary expenses. Don’t feed the system you loathe.

This might mean going against your parents wishes, and not matriculating: AKA not going on to college and university like society tells you to.

This might mean getting kicked out of your parent’s home, and living in a tiny, tiny room as part of a shared accommodation.

This might mean living on the dole.

This might mean taking a part-time job that only earns you enough to survive, and spending the rest of your time reading in libraries and writing (That’s what Ray Bradbury did!).

This might mean living in the back of a van. For years.

It’s NOT going to be easy. In fact, there’s nothing scarier in the world than pursuing your dreams. Everyone feels helpless and scared, deep inside, but the conventions of society, the acceptable path in life, usually helps us to bury that fear. Well, if you want to follow your dreams, if you don’t want to be just another cog in the machine, you’ve got to go out and make your own path.

Sometimes, you’ll want to give up. I’ve considered living in a van for a long time, and once my exams are over, if my parents disown me for not going onto university, if I can’t find a room cheap enough, I’m going to buy a van, get it rigged up as best as I can, and hit the road.

Maybe you’ll go hungry.

Maybe you’ll get tired of poverty.

Maybe you’ll get robbed.

Maybe you’ll have to pee into a bottle, or defecate on newspapers, in the absence of bathroom facilities.

You’ll have to suffer humiliation, misery, shame. Of course, personal safety and survival is important, but don’t put so much emphasis on them that they keep you back. Remember: if it doesn’t kill you, if it doesn’t hamper you from writing or reading or whatever it is that you want to do, you’ll be fine.

What will kill you is staying in a job that leeches the colour from your soul.

Hey. If you’re reading this, you’re already lucky, living in a first world country and all that jazz. You won’t starve – what kind of a luxury is that? Let me tell you: a HUGE one. There are always food stamps. I don’t know what it’s like where you live, but we also have organisations in Australia like the Salvation Army for those who are struggling.

And why not take this fantastic opportunity, of being born in the right place at the right time, to try and reach for the stars? It’s just one life. It doesn’t matter if you stuff it up. It’s just life. Reality is an illusion anyway. Why not live, laugh, and dream your way to perfect happiness? Unless you’re going to literally DIE on the streets if you don’t get a proper job, be reckless, be brave, be crazy.

In the end, ask yourself this: WHO CARES? No-one cares if you die. You’ll just fade into the wash of time like everyone else. Only what you create, what you leave behind, will be remembered. No-one cares if you succeed or not. No-one cares if you had to live in a van for ten years before becoming a good enough writer to finish your novel.

Have tunnel vision. Focus on your dream. Chase it with every fibre of your being. Don’t waste a second.

And forget how long it will take and simply believe in your heart, truly, truly believe, that your dream will come true. And it will. It might take five years. Ten years. Twenty. Fifty.

Either way, you’re going to get there.

We’re DREAMERS, for godsakes! We are brave, and strong. We need to stop being so afraid. So attached to comfort and security. We need to push ourselves. Think of what art, what goodness we could bring forth into the world if each and everyone of us followed our hearts like this.


Forget about jobs. Forget about careers. You’re going to die. Existence is transient. The universe is transient. No-one cares about you. Follow your calling. Your dream. Do it for yourself. And have heaps of freaking fun. There’s no point in doing anything if it doesn’t fulfill you, doesn’t make you happy.

Got it?

I wish you a lifetime of joy.

Feeling Melancholy


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What can I say. We’re tragic souls.

Perhaps it’s our tendency to see the truths of existence. Perhaps we’re attracted to sadness because it allows us to flutter our fingers upon the pulse of life. Either way, as INFPs, we’re prone to sinking into silky pools of melancholy and drowning in it. Quietly.

I know my words do not scratch the surface of how horrible these periods feel. Often, they’re triggered by something – a seepage of reality into our previously impenetrable mold of idealism, a criticism, a fresh pain – but either way, they feel like dying, they feel like the world is ending, they feel like shadows and nothingness and curling. Nothing feels worth doing. You don’t feel worth doing anything. What talents? What hope? Isn’t this just a harsh world of broken dreams and delusions and fools?

There aren’t many ways of getting through this, other than riding it out. That’s the best way to go about doing it: lie on the beach and let the black, glossy waves tremble over your form until the tide recedes and leaves you washed up on gritty sand and rocks, breathing heavily but still alive. Still alive.

Or, you could take comfort in the thought that you’re not alone. No-one is ever alone in their misery – there’s always somewhere out there who is feeling worse than you. But, in the moment, when our minds are focused on our own pain, IT HURTS, IT HURTS, even our empathy and imagination takes a bit of a hit.

Then, there are a few things worth doing to remind yourself of the light that still exists in the world, and your life. Most times, they don’t work. The grief is too powerful. But, if employed in combination, they can perhaps wreak a change on your psyche. Haul you back up out of the abyss before the darkness swallows you completely.

  1. Do what you love. What do you like doing? Reading? Writing? Don’t worry about if you’re good at it. Don’t worry about the outcome. Just do it because you love it, and let the love of the act pour through you like spring water to cleanse away the cesspools of pain that have gathered in your mind.
  2. Go on the internet and find other INFPs. We understand you. One of the reasons I even started blogging was because I was feeling lonely, melancholy and sad. Send me a message on this blog – I’ll try and offer as much comfort as I can. Talk to people on forums, such as Personality Cafe, and voice your pain. You can reach it, and feel less alone in your misery.
  3. Find philosophical quotes on melancholy, loneliness and suffering. There have been wiser people just as human as us who grappled with these same woes, and their words are balm to the soul. Repeat them to yourself; let the words sink in. I know it hurts. Unfortunately, it’s just a part of being human, hurting, and it all depends on how you react towards it.
  4. Hug someone. The touch of another human being is miraculous. Anyone. A friend. Your mother. Your brother. Anyone.
  5. This is something I’ve found to be helpful as I’ve grown older, and more mature in my philosophical understanding of the world: remember it’s all just an illusion. It all ends. It’s all transient. It’s all a dream, this life, this world, this existence, and one that comes to an end when we die. Oblivion. Lots and lots of oblivion. No-one knows anything. Everyone howls on the inside. Take it as it is. Flow with it. There’s nothing more you can do. Serene acceptance is the best attitude to take in regards to bouts of melancholy, my friend.

And don’t forgot, sadness is not always a bane. Great works of art have sprouted from moments of terrible suffering. Melancholy can make you feel more human, and give you a better perspective on what truly matters in life. Hang in there. I don’t know you, you don’t know me, but we share a kinship, through our hearts and our beings, I’m here for you. My heart pulses for you. We are the one and the same. Living, breathing, existing, feeling.

You won’t be okay. Nothing and no-one ever is. It’s about smiling for the sake of smiling. About living for the sake of living. Finding the small joys, and kissing existence even when it bats you down.

How To Take Life Less Seriously, INFP-Style


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As INFPs, we tend to treat life very seriously. It is a natural aspect of our nature, stemming from our desire to live to our fullest potential with the one life that we are all too aware that we have.

However, as always, there needs to be a balance, or you’ll end up solemn, gloomy and depressed. The more seriously you take life, the more you embrace hard, cold reality rather than soul-nourishing ideals, and this can negatively affect your psychological well-being. We start to feel bad about ourselves. We start to take less risks, have less fun.

Though a dose of reality is good now and then, just remember: at your core, you are a dreamer, so make sure to leave some head space for fantastical possibilities rather than only focusing everyday obstacles, banalities and the nitty-gritty aspects of life.

In fact, in my experience, I’ve found that taking life too seriously (such as employing black and white thinking such as “I must achieve this, or I will be a failure and I’ll die without making my mark on the world, TRAGEDY”) can actually prevent us from, not only being happy, but achieving our dreams. We end up holding on to them too tightly, and dreams, being the cheeky, playful creatures they are, slip right out of our fingers.

So, without further ado (you’ll probably hear me using this phrase a lot throughout my posts; I’m very attached to it; it’s deliciously grand and dramatic, and conjures in my mind exciting pictures of a circus master lowering his hat to the audience to introduce the first act of prancing ponies), here are a few ways to stop taking life so seriously. INFP-style.

1. Realize reality is an illusion.

It is.

You can do a bit of philosophical searching on the net about this, but let me tell you: the world we see and inhabit really is nothing but an illusion. Reality is what we believe it to be. We’re all just vibrating atoms, when you come down to it. We can even only see colour only due to the varied wavelengths of light that strike surfaces!

Deep down, you know that there is so much more beyond what we see, and experience, and that our currently reality is only a flimsy film covering the greater whole. We’re but a small strand in a larger and unknowable web.

Seriously. Use your philosophical sensibilities to probe and understand this. If you fully come to terms with this fact, that it’s all just mirrors and smoke, and we’re a few worried little reflections, it will liberate you like nothing else can.

Because if it’s all just a dream, an illusion, why not lighten up a bit? Why not take a chance and get hurt, get rejected? You’re stronger than you think. Why not take risks, get that impractical English degree, laugh, have fun? You have nothing to lose. The world’s a stage, sing the best song you can and then exit it.

Shed that anxious, serious part of yourself that blows little events out of proportion (it’s not your fault: we’re imaginative and sensitive, which can be a pretty potent combination, and makes us natural worriers) and dance and make the dazzling reflections you want to see.

2. Remind yourself of your own mortality.

As INFPs, we’re good at reminding ourselves of our own mortality. The macabre tends to appeal to us. Yet even we slip up sometimes, and get caught in the whirlwind of everyday life during which the thought of our own imminent death is pushed to the back of our minds.

This is just a friendly reminder: you’re going to die.

You’re dying right now. You’re dying every second. And you’ve got a dream. Every INFP has one. You’ve got a dream, and you’ve got limited time. Now, rather than seeing this as pressure to make your mark upon the world before you perish, think of it this way: why treat life as a slog when you’re going to die anyway? Why not play, and have fun?

Dance your way to your dream, and you’ll enjoy the journey just as much as the end result. Lighten up. It’s just life. Life is an illusion, life is a dream, life is silly, and we’ll never understand it.

Listen: it’s okay.

3. Art is play.

Chances are, you engage in some sort of artistic outlet, whether it be painting, singing, designing, writing – the list goes on. Most likely, it’s writing, but, that’s irrelevant: what I’m trying to say is, you are naturally a creative being!

The creation of art is a compulsion of yours. And the thing you have to understand is that all good art comes from play. From love, and joy. Of course, art takes hard work, but what’s even more important is that you enjoy the act of creation. If you take life, and therefore your art, too seriously, then you stifle your creativity, and the art you create is bland, stilted, forced. You’re trying too hard to be good instead of giving up control and letting the goodness appear with the fun.

So let it all flow out of your fingertips from the rich brew of your subconscious. You can edit it later. Don’t be serious or grave about it, like a priest ordained by God to do a task: write, draw, play, have fun, live, love. Make beautiful stuff that will make you smile, and others too.

4. Trust the universe.

Now, hear me out on this one.

Maybe you don’t believe in destiny, and mystical powers beyond our comprehension, and will see this as a whole load of hogwash. But I want you to keep an open mind about what I’m going to tell you. I’m an atheist myself, but I believe this with all my heart.

If you are reading this on a computer, you are already one of the wealthy and lucky in the world. Millions would love to trade spots with you. Listen. Stop being so serious. Stop worrying about money. Stop worrying about careers. Stop worrying about bills. Forget about being safe and realistic. Unless you’re going to starve out on the streets, and the chances of that happening in a developed country are very low (there are services out there for the needy), cast away all your worldly concerns, and place them in the hands of the universe.

You’re not going to die. That’s all that matters. Sure, you might end up living in poverty and discomfort with this mindset, but we INFPs are good at handling that. Better to have a library to go to than a mansion with flashy pools and chandeliers, right?

And in the end, if you keep on plugging away at your dreams, and BELIEVING with all your heart, the universe will take care of you. The universe, if you put in the work, will make your dreams come true. It’s about trust. It’s about faith. I know it sounds rather religious, but it’s not. There’s so much we don’t see. So many forces at work (and not necessary that of the divine) that we are unaware of. Trust the universe. Trust yourself.

You won’t die if you’re too impractical to find a job right out of school. You don’t die if you are unemployed for years on end. Stop being so serious, relax and follow your heart, your loves, your joys.

5. Observe animals. Nature. Birds. Children.

Don’t you just love nature, and animals? Something about the quiet rustle of trees, woodland shadows, and pure, unrestrained creatures makes our hearts sing. We feel alive amongst nature. We feel alive when we look up at the expanse of the sky. So, do it more often.

And children. Watch them. I don’t recommend staring at them for extended periods of time in the vicinity of parents – that might come off as a bit unsettling. Observe them casually, maybe at a playground. Watch how your friend’s children, or your nieces, or your siblings live life: in the moment, playing, laughing and being happy. Do the look the slightest bit serious to you?

Watch sunsets. Watch the birds coast like tiny angels in the sky and realize how small and petty all our troubles are. We are part of something more than us, and the animals have got life right. Do you think a monkey spends days worrying about his desire to become an alpha male? No. He just eats when he’s hungry, sleeps when he’s tired, and fights other monkeys when the moment comes. You should do the same.

Live in the moment as much as possible. INFPs have a tendency to become enraptured by the future, yet living and appreciating the time we have now is one of the best ways for us to feel truly happy.

Feel the grand circle of life you belong to. Look. A bee. A pink, ruffled flower bobbing in the breeze. How beautiful. Dear God, how beautiful.

There’s no need to be serious.

Now get out there and play.

I Know You Want Love


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Want love

It is hardly any news that we are one of the most romantic types.

INFPs yearn for love the way some mothers pine after their lost children. All throughout our often lonely lives – for, no matter how many friends and loved ones we surround ourselves with, there is always an emptiness within the centre of us – romantic love hangs before us like a sunlit carrot on the end of a string.

We want that gooey, golden feeling in our hearts. We want to be held, and understood. We want to feel safe. We want to read with our significant other, leaning against the trunk of a tree in a park, and basking in the warmth and comfort of another body. Watch the stars on the front porch at night. Smile so hard it feels as if our body will split in joy.

Unfortunately, life does not dole us a Princess or Prince Charming just because we want one, and we start to ache inside. To make up for the lack of affection in reality, we start fantasizing, admiring people from afar and building them up in our minds into paragons of perfection. We get depressed, sad and lonely. We start to think that perhaps it just wasn’t meant to be, that we are too strange and eccentric and awkward to be loved, and that reality can never align with our ideals.

I know. I’ve been there. And I’m still there. But, after some soul-searching, and nights spent thinking instead of sleeping, I’ve come up with a few nuggets of advice for those of you who are struggling with this issue. I hope they can soothe your ragged soul, and bring light to your darkened world. Some of them may seem a little clichéd, but they are hackneyed for a reason; and you must internalize them in order for them to truly take an effect on your psyche, rather than brushing it off with habitual scorn.

  1. You must love yourself. I know how hard that can be. We can be anxious, highly critical beings, and sometimes loving ourselves is harder than pulling out teeth. But you must understand that no-one can love someone who has very low self-esteem, and is constantly battering themselves with internal abuse. Think about it. Are you attracted to confident people, quietly comfortable in their skin, or that worrier who nibbles their fingers in the corner and bats away any compliment that comes their way?I will be writing another entire post on this issue, but just know this: You are kind and lovely and wonderful. Deep down, you know that, only its buried beneath a sludge of daily angst and pain. When you can hold your head high among people, rather than hunching over and shrinking, you open yourself to being loved, and more able to get back up after any rejections.Don’t fall into the mistake of thinking love will raise your self-esteem – it won’t. Only you can.

    And even if you don’t end up finding “The One”, you’ll still have self-love, and though right now it may seem to pale in comparison to kisses beneath a mistletoe and walks on the beach, it will last longer, and be more satisfying and helpful for your well-being than any relationship.

  2. Differentiate between your ideals and reality. You have a vivid imagination, and though this might serve you well in coming up with story lines for your novels, it also works to your detriment. In your head, everything is bathed in idyllic golden light. Your relationship is perfect, passionate, a union of unparalleled happiness. Your mind can spin forth a thousand images: curled up in bed together, petting cats, sipping coffee at a cafe, crying into a warm shoulder. However, you are also smart, and, contrary to popular belief, logical.Beneath the daydreams, you know very well the reality of being in a relationship, and that, in the end, it’s no different from the experience of living right now in your present moment. Indulge in your fantasies, but don’t put all your hopes on them.Of course, love can be nice and bubbly. But that’s only a fraction of what a relationship truly is. In real life, relationships are much more fickle, and less smooth. In real life, you’re not always in a state of euphoria. In real life, eventually there will come a time in every relationship where you get comfortable, and start taking the other person for granted.

    Think about your family members. You love them, yet sometimes you hate them; sometimes you treat them as people there to serve you; sometimes you treat them as if they were merely flies on a wall, inhabiting the same space as you. All I’m saying is, dreams are lovely, but the truth must be faced, and by reconciling yourself with the reality, you reduce the power romantic love holds over your life.

  3. Stop idealizing people. First and foremost, as INFPs, we are idealistic. Everything is about the wondrous possibility, the heavenly picture. We build dazzling castles in our mind before we’ve even gathered a single brick. We watch people from afar, and start to slot them into our romantic daydreams. In our head, they say the things we want to hear, love us unconditionally, and are perfect.Likewise, I will be writing another post about this, but, suffice to say, you must stop doing this.All it does is mire you in sparkles that fade in the morning, and leave your heart dull and shadowed. It leaves you disappointed and unfulfilled. It leaves you forever pining. It prevents you from getting to know people. You might not even want to approach them, and start a real relationship, for fear of shattering the illusion. Not only that, it lowers your self-esteem: you build them up into Gods and Goddesses, and thus can’t help but inferior. But you have to understand that they are humans too, and can be just as fallible and silly.

    Seek the mortal, not the divine. Lower your eyes from the heavens and get to know the hearts beating within breasts. Try to strike up a conversation. Get to know them. Trust me. They are just like you.

  4. Do not pine after love. Yes, I know, it’s so deliciously romantic to yearn. We feel ourselves to be suitors in some dramatic play on courtly love. How our hearts ache! Secretly, we hope that through pining, through misery, through self-inflicted heartache, the universe will somehow take pity on us and twirl a dashing prince or beautiful princess onto the stage of our lives.But the truth is, however painful it is, that this is not the case. And deep down, you know that.It’s fun to yearn, and feel our heartstrings tug, but this won’t bring love into your life. In fact, it’ll do the opposite: your desperation sends out a wave into the world which only brings back more negativity. So, what alternative is there to pining? Joy.

    Instead of thinking ‘Oh, I wish someone would love me, please love me, somebody?’, change your thoughts to something along the lines of ‘Love feels so nice. When I imagine loving somebody, my heart fills with happiness.’ Rather than focusing on the fact that you don’t have love, concentrate your efforts on feeling the joy of potential love. Use your imagination to light up your heart, rather than depress it.

    When you do this, you radiate positivity and open up your heart to love when it comes. Not to mention that you’ll be happier, which will turn make you more attractive.