Hating Myself Quotes

After my older sister Rachelle came home from dialysis, the atmosphere at home was suffocating. She curled up on the couch, thin as a rail. She was nagging me hard and telling me not to tire myself out too much at work. Dad was by the door smoking. To get money to treat Rachelle’s condition, he had sold our old house and land. Dirty and muddied, my fiance, who had always viewed Rachelle as a sister of his own, brought home his week’s salary. They all lamented how unfair life was to already poor and suffering people who had to suffer even more. I looked at myself in the mirror with my bleeding nose and flushed away the report with my acute leukemia diagnosis. During dinner, Dad suddenly said, “Ryleigh, Rachelle needs a kidney. You’re healthy and young. You might be a match.” I looked at Rachelle’s pleading eyes and coldly put my cutlery down. “I won’t do it. I’ll be a cripple with one less kidney. How am I supposed to find someone to marry then?” Dad slapped me hard, even as my fiance called me ungrateful. I slammed the door shut as I left. I looked for the nearest room to the hospital to rent so that I could wait it out until I died. The room I found was only five blocks away from the organ donation center.

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

"If you are going to enter my world, be ready to play my game," Mago warned, his eyes gleaming with danger, "If you can't keep up, then you'll have to endure the pain." MAGO CONCEPCION—ruthless, seductive, and incapable of love. He believed emotions were a weakness, and I, ARLENE MEJORADA, believed I could change him. I was the woman who thought I could heal him with my love, drawn in by his dangerous allure that I couldn't resist. I was a willing victim, drawn into his world of power and temptation. I convinced myself that I could handle the pain, that I could survive his cruel, calculating ways. But love doesn't always conquer all. Yet, my determination was unwavering. Soon, I found myself breaking. Piece by piece, he tore through my heart, leaving me shattered and empty, a shadow of the woman I once was. I wanted to save him, but in the end, I was the one who needed saving. This is my story—of how I gave him everything until nothing was left of me. Now I face the choice: do I pick up the pieces and walk away, or keep letting him destroy what’s left of me? My name is ARLENE MEJORADA, and I was willing to endure anything for love. Until I wasn’t.

I buried him myself. I stood at his grave with dirt on my hands and grief in my throat as I said goodbye to the only man I ever thought I would love. Kael was my betrothed, my mate, the boy who grew up beside me and became the person I built every future around. When the war took him it did not just take him — it took every version of myself that existed because of him. Years passed. The moon goddess, in her mercy, gave me something I never asked for — a second chance. Rowan was not supposed to happen. He was patient where I was resistant, steady where I was broken, and present in every way I had convinced myself no one would ever be again. I did not want to love him. And then I did not know how to stop. I was finally learning what it meant to choose life again. When Kael walked back through my door. Alive. Unchanged. And completely unable to explain where he had been. Now I am torn between a love that was written into my soul before I was old enough to understand what souls were, and a man who chose me quietly and completely when I had nothing left to offer. The elders say this is not a reverse harem blessing. There is no keeping both. I have to choose. But how do you bury someone you love twice?

My fiancé's junior colleague went around the hospital every day calling herself "the best girl". When a patient with acute appendicitis was admitted, she mistakenly prescribed laxatives instead of proper treatment. The patient nearly went into shock and died. After the hospital was reported by the patient's family, she simply smiled and said, "I don't even need a supervising doctor to prescribe medication anymore. I'm such a good girl!" On another occasion, she failed to order routine pre-op blood work for a surgical patient. During the procedure, a visiting senior surgeon was exposed and later contracted HIV. She actually puffed out her chest and said, "Even if everyone had to stay up all night helping me save the doctor, I'm still the best girl!" I protested more than once and urged my fiancé to dismiss her. He refused every time. He brushed it off with a laugh, saying "this good girl" just needed time and experience. Then, a prominent patient was transferred from a military hospital for surgery. She secretly tampered with the medical records, switching the pathology findings from the left lung to the right. She even revised the surgical plan, recommending removal of the patient's completely healthy right lung. Luckily, I caught the mistake in time, restored the correct pathology report, and performed the surgery successfully. After the patient recovered, he asked for our team to be recognized. To my disbelief, Elena Bakers ran to my fiancé in tears. "I wrote the entire report by myself! All by myself! I'm the best little girl! "Why do you always take credit away from me? It took so much courage for this little girl to be brave just once! "You're all horrible!" Elena stormed out of the hospital and was struck and killed by a car on the spot. My fiancé did not say a word. However, on the very day I was appointed hospital director, he produced falsified evidence accusing me of altering records and causing multiple medical accidents to advance my career. I was arrested, tried, and sentenced to death. As the verdict was delivered, he looked at me with unmistakable satisfaction. "You'll never make up for what you owe Elena. Not in this lifetime." When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Elena altered the surgical plan.

My wife's first love broke into our home and killed me. Yet my wife, one of the world's top defense attorneys, stood in court to secure his acquittal. She insisted that the entire incident was nothing more than an act I had staged myself—a desperate attempt to win her attention. She even appeared at my funeral. Pointing at my coffin with open disgust, she sneered, "You'd stoop this low just to get my sympathy? Stop pretending and come out right now to apologize to Marvin."

Am I ready to be in love? Am I ready to sacrifice myself? Handa na ba ako sa mga mangyayare kapag sinabi ko sa kaniya na mahal ko siya? Paano kung hindi niya ako mahal? Paano kung wala naman siyang nararamdaman para sa akin ano ang gagawin ko? Deserve niya ba ako? Hindi ako para sa kaniya. Kaya titignan ko na lang siya na masaya sa ibang babae na kayang ipagtanggol at mahalin siya ng lubusan.

"So deal, okay?""What about?""If you kill yourself, I'll kill myself too.""Alright. But if you kill yourself, then I'll kill myself.""Okay."Audrey Simmons is suicidal.Cayden Nowell is too.But when they were about to kill themselves, they met each other on the same rooftop.And so, they made a pact. A suicide pact.This is a story about a boy and a girl who tries too hard to fit into their group of friends but constantly failed.And when they found each other, they finally find a place they can fit into.The only mistake they made was that they broke themselves trying to fix each other.

He was never supposed to be in the picture, I was supposed to live happily with my boyfriend, but he came out of nowhere. My body reacted so much to him. I touched myself thinking about him, but he never looked at me, not even once… **** Valeria had been with her boyfriend for years, and it was finally the day of their marriage. She was over the edge, but when she got to the altar, her boyfriend wasn't there. It was his sexy brother she had always fantasised about countless times, standing there. Will she marry him or call off the wedding? Dive into this book to find out.

I was twelve when Henry Shaw took me home from the orphanage, gave me a new name, put me through school, and gave me a good life. Ten years later, his first love returned from abroad. Her name sounded like mine, and her face looked like a mirror image. I quickly realized I had been a stand-in all along. Crushing the diagnosis in my pocket, I decided that I was going to live the rest of my life for myself, even if I did not have much time left.