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Are You A Yes Girl?

Sometimes, it's alright to say no. Especially if you're just saying yes because of peer pressure.

Do you find yourself getting pressured to do things you don't really want to do? You might be a yes girl. There's nothing wrong with wanting to try a lot of things, but it gets a little complicated when you get forced to do things you're not comfortable with. Take this quiz to find out if you're a yes girl and if it's time you learned how to say no.

It's your brother's turn to wash the dishes. He says he got injured during a basketball game at school (but really, he's just weaseling out of the household chore). What do you do?

You're already by the sink with your hands covered in suds even before he finishes his excuse.

You'll quiz him first on what kind of injury it is and if it's serious. If you think he's bluffing, you'll make sure he washes every single dirty dish in the sink!

You're not even listening. You've already plugged in your earphones and blasting your favorite playlist while walking to your room.

You've got a makeup quiz in the morning, but your barkada is hanging out at the mall after school.

Even if you've spent all week reviewing for the makeup quiz, you skip the barkada hang because you'd rather stay home and sleep. Who cares if you miss out?

You pretend the quiz does not exist. You'll deal with it in the morning. No way are you missing out on bestie time!

You think of a compromise. They'll help you study for your quiz and hang out at the coffee shop with you. Everyone wins!

You drop by your favorite yogurt place. Your favorite flavor has run out!

After asking once if they're sure your favorite flavor's all out, you try the next best thing. It only means you have a reason to come back!

You skip the yogurt altogether. What's the point, right?

You get whatever the dude at the cashier suggests. Who cares if you've never heard of the flavor?

Everyone's got the latest pair of limited edition sneakers in your class but you.

You strike a deal with your parents. If you ace your long tests, you get the shoes as incentive. If not, it's okay. You think to yourself, it's not the end of the world.

You really don't care much for trends and would rather wear your hole-y 10-year-old pair that's actually due for the trash. You can't be bothered to buy new ones!

You cry your eyes out and beg your parents to give you a pair. You will die if you go another day without a pair of those shoes—even if you don't particularly like them!

School elections are coming up and everyone is busy preparing.

You're actually the incumbent vice president so you're already in over your head with your presidential campaign. This is on top of all your current extra curricular activities. Do you even sleep still?

You didn't even vote in the last election. You probably don't even know who's running.

You're part of the student council, but have chosen to sit this one out. You're graduating next year and you want to concentrate on school work so that you're ready for college. You'll gladly help with your friend's campaign instead.

Your parents have enrolled you in a summer camp. Your first thought:

This isn't what I signed up for. My parents are the worst!!!

I'm excited for it. Kind of nervous, but I'm sure I'll have tons of fun!

I can't wait to document everything! Will pack all my video equipment, stock up on my Instax film, and make sure I've got space in my phone for all the selfies I'll be taking with my new friends at camp. Maybe I can be a counselor next year?

A guy asks you out, but you don't really know him.

I think I'll get to know him first then I'll decide if we should go out.

Yes, of course. What else is there to know? He's a guy!

Um, no.

SUBMIT MY ANSWER

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About the author
Macy Alcaraz
Former Editor in Chief, candymag.com
When she's not busy online, she's in the kitchen on a mission to make the world a better place one bite at a time.
VIEW OTHER ARTICLES FROM Macy

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If you know me, and know me well, I am not the biggest fan of idyllic lifestyles. With a Type A personality, I act immediately upon whatever challenge that needs to be addressed. I actually enjoy keeping my mind preoccupied: doing university work in my favourite cafe then running errands around town, grocery shopping here, updating my accounts there, photocopying documents on the way down the street - all just in time before having a glass of champagne at the bar with my friends come evening.

And so, you could imagine my bewilderment when the next challenge to be faced was an extensive self-quarantine protocol. I didn’t know what to do when my greatest responsibility in this situation was to do nothing at all. My first few attempts to combat my consternation were very much rooted in distraction and imagination. My distractions involved conducting research, writing songs, calling family and friends, filming videos, and eating chocolate! My imaginations and fantasies were centred on travelling, shopping, even clubbing (which I rarely do) for when they find a cure to COVID-19. I did anything and everything that could be considered constructive in order to pass the time, mainly hoping I could just undertake the basic human necessities to survive - that is, eat and sleep the day through - until the next day comes, until the world is closer to becoming a better place, until quarantine ends, until my flight follows through, until I see my family and friends again.

Days in self-isolation and suspended flights turned to weeks and turned to months. By the third extension here in Spain where I study Fashion Business, I had to tell myself this shall be my new normal now, that I was blessed to be healthy, that I was tired of merely existing and missed what it was like to actually live - even if just within four walls. Little by little, I began to find significance in the simple occurrences of the day: the soft glare of the rising sun beaming golden streaks through my bedroom window upon waking up, the fragrance of freshly washed bed sheets that I had painstakingly hung to fit a relatively small clothes rack without crumpling them, the crunch and tanginess of warm toasted bread topped with raspberry marmalade, the buzzing sound of a phone call from home just waiting to be answered, to the caress of a fuzzy sweater to keep warm at night. I realised, “What pleasures to be enjoyed in the pause of slow living!” Through this continued pause, which I loathed at first, I began to appreciate each moment of the day rather than wish it would pass more swiftly, moments I had overlooked so often before the lockdown. I started to find that the challenge of self-isolation was never to pause both the regular routines of life as well as the positive emotions that came with these - as initially, I thought it meant to pause all happiness, so as to withstand a time of endurance in hopes for a better tomorrow, much like a form of delaying gratification. Life is just too fragile these days to delay gratification any further.

Life has paused, but it has not stopped. Believe that like any punctuation mark in a sentence, the pause will provide the right timing of things to take place. Till then, let us not waste our time waiting. Instead, we could be in the moment, seek substance in simplicity (that is, in what we already have), And enjoy the pleasure in pause. “Practice the Pause. When in doubt, pause. When angry, pause. When tired, pause. When stressed, pause. And when you pause, pray.”

They say time heals all wounds, but it has been ages - is heartbreak exempted?

I have forgotten when was the last time we shared a smile - the last time when I saw the glow in your eyes and the last time when you whispered an I love you to me. I have forgotten when, but here I am - writing to you again.

I do not know if you will read this or you will just add this one to my proses and poems that you left unread, but you see, I am still hoping. I am mailing the pain of us to the gods out there - hoping they can take the pain away. I should have gotten over you, but instead of forgetting and accepting our ending, I am writing about us in tissue sheets, carving about us on trees, telling about us on the back of my journals, hoping that a thousand or a million write ups about us, can make me forget about what happened.

I am writing, waiting for the point where I can no longer write anymore, for I have none to tell - but when? I have nothing in me anymore, but the memories of us - and no matter how hard I try put those to its own grave, the memories grow back like lilies in the swamp - painful and beautiful at the same time.

No matter how hard I try to silence those and put it at the back of my mind, those ring back, playing like the favorite song we used to listen. They say heartbreaks turn into poetry and that is what happening to us - but poetry should be dulcet and dreamy, why does ours sound like pain and agony? They say time heals all wounds, but it has been ages - is heartbreak exempted? Darling, I guess not.

Anne Luna A day ago
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