Some things are best learned the hard way. Actually, the hard way seems to be the only way I learn.
I’ve been learning things the hard way for decades… literally.
It turns out that it’s easier to just study for the spelling test rather than try to wrap your 3rd grade brain around right, wrong, and Catholic guilt. Plus… cheating is really hard when you’re in 3rd grade and cell phones don’t yet exist.
If I have to ask and lightly beg a dude to take me to the prom, I’m probably going with a fellow that doesn’t want to take me. This dating lesson is hard learned and often repeated countless times through dating life.
I’ve learned what it takes to keep lights on, heat running, and food in the fridge. The hard way… bills.
I’ve learned the hard way what it’s like to take someone for granted, to lose love that I’m still grasping for, to cut unfortunate bangs, and insist of fashion heels out of pure vanity.
I’ve learned the hard way what it’s like to make my own French Fries. Hard. Ok… not hard, just time-consuming. The sweet consolation? There’s hot fries at the end. Actually, hot fries are a running theme as I lick my wounds through all of my hard lessons learned. That’s called emotional eating…The fries, however, were never hand-cut and home-fried. Time consuming, yes…. but and a hard lesson I’ll teach myself (and enjoy) several times over.