I had it in me, my old bulldog of being right. Think soft marshmallow flesh with stocky shoulders and a snarling, sputtering, toothy, aggressive need-to-be-right.
I’ve heard women, somewhat unintentionally, crush conversations quicker than a demolition team taking down a titan of concrete with a critical spirit gone unchecked.
I know average women who can walk into a room and fill it with the sunshine of their beaming and generous smile, winning and warming the hearts of men and women alike. I've also seen beautiful women enter a room and chill it almost as