Self Growth Quotes

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

My husband was out cold. Middle of the night, his phone lit up on the nightstand—chat app blowing up. I leaned over and grabbed it, quiet as a breath. Messages from someone named 'Viv.' Her last one? [Goodnight, Matt.] I had my fingerprint saved, but I'd never used it. Six years of trust. Six years of believing he was loyal—maybe too awkward to cheat. But something felt off. So I tapped in. And just like that, I opened Pandora's box. My heart? Tanked.

When my husband Joshua dragged his student Linda Moore into our apartment, I didn't even blink—I gave up the bed. Last time, it'd been pouring when he showed up with her in the middle of the night. Told me to crash on the floor with my daughter Mia and gave Linda the bed like it was nothing. I lost it. Fought with him, snapped at her. She bolted, slipped into a ditch, and supposedly drowned. Joshua said nothing. Then, one night, with the storm going wild outside, he pried open a manhole and dumped me and Mia in like trash. "Linda's my mentor's daughter. She's dead—how am I supposed to face him? You two can apologize yourselves." We didn't even get to scream before that freezing, disgusting water swallowed us whole. Turns out, Linda faked the whole thing. Just a twisted joke to punish me. Joshua moved her in right after, like nothing happened. Now, thunder cracked again as the door opened—and there he was, Linda right behind him.

My mom had a sudden heart attack, and the medical bills were piling up faster than I could breathe. I was desperate, so I turned to my rich boyfriend, hoping he could help, or at least offer some kind of solution. But instead of the support I expected, he unleashed a tirade that hit harder than anything I'd ever heard. "So this is why you're with me? Just for my money? You're no different from those other women throwing themselves at me. You're all the same—pathetic and shameless!" Before I could even react, he shoved me out the door. Later, when he finally understood the full story, he handed me a bank card, no questions asked. "Candice," he said quietly, his tone almost remorseful. "The password is your birthday." I didn't say a word. I just let the card drop onto the floor and walked away without looking back.

My entrepreneur boyfriend and I had been living in a tiny rental, eating bread every day. Then one day, I saw his name on the Young Entrepreneurs List. Not only was he the CEO of my company's biggest competitor, but he was also worth over 100 million.

My husband sponsored a poor female college student. While I was being dragged into an alley by a criminal, he was helping her pick out lingerie. While I was hospitalized with serious injuries, he used the money my mother left me to buy her a limited-edition handbag. I confronted him in a heated argument, but he accused me of being unreasonable. "I thought your injuries were so serious, but look—you didn’t even die! Besides, your money is my money. I’ll spend it however I want!"

I am the Lycan King's only daughter and the rightful heir to the werewolf crown. When I was seven, my father chose four of the strongest and most striking alpha heirs from the four great packs to be my potential mates. He poured endless resources into raising them, grooming them to one day help me manage the council. It was not long before they became the center of attention of the entire kingdom. Everyone called them ‘The Apex Four’. However, I always knew they were not really interested in me, but in what they could gain from me. Even the one I secretly loved, Thorne, started to drift away from me when he became interested in another woman. After my father was gravely injured, he asked me which of the four I wanted to mate with. I could only give him a bitter smile. Rather than choose, I opted to draw lots and let the Moon Goddess decide my fate. Fate chose the most infamous of them all: Lucian. On the day I announced my mate, the last thing I expected was Thorne to break down and beg me not to leave.

In the eighth year of our secret office marriage, Marvin lit up every LED screen in Ocean City, just to make his little assistant smile. Amidst the well-wishes from everyone, the assistant cheerfully handed out gifts to the entire office. I casually tossed my gift into the trash. The assistant immediately ran to Marvin's office, tears streaming down her face, to report me. Moments later, Marvin, furious, suspended me from my position. As I walked out of the company building, Marvin's voice echoed from the loudspeakers on the top floor. "Celebrating Wendy's successful completion of her work, the gift is ready!" Wendy—was the assistant's name. As I watched the crowd rush past me, I calmly cut all ties with Marvin. This hidden marriage had come to an end.

Philip was rescued from rogue wolves by Nick, who died protecting him. After that, Philip took in Nick's mate, Laila, and their pup, Ray, took care of them like they were his own. For the sake of Laila and Ray, he kept asking me to compromise—again and again. Philip left me alone on our wedding anniversary to celebrate Ray's birthday. He gave Ray my Marking ring to play with, like it was a toy. Even at the annual family gathering, he insisted on bringing them along. The final straw came when he asked me to give something up—again. He wanted me to switch my first-class cruise ship ticket with Laila's economy seat. I felt exhausted. I was done. I was ready to walk away from this five-year marriage.

On the day of my wedding anniversary, I was cleaning my house when I found a picture album. As it turned out, my husband had been religiously taking pictures with the girl of his dreams every year on this precise date. He had been doing it since he was forty years old and he was now sixty years old. His hair had progressed from a jet black to a faded white and yet, he kept up the tradition. There was a written message in his handwriting at the back of the picture that read, “Eternal Love.” Since he doesn't love me, I will no longer bother washing his clothes and cooking for him. I will no longer care for his children and grandchildren. I may have foolishly wasted half of my life, but it was not too late to make a change.