I was already feeling it, the wine from earlier and the vodka we were drinking too quickly now, I could feel the edges of myself softening, a kind of tingling like a limb waking up.
I tend to find that when I tell that judgmental voice within to shut it and I'm kind to others, the person who is my harshest critic (myself) softens a bit, becomes kinder and doesn't flinch when she sees herself naked.
His arms, as mine, instinctively went out to soften our collision and I found myself wrapped in the arms of a perfect stranger.
People drink to soften the edges, I often told myself – but my edges were too jagged to be smoothed away with one beer and being under the influence only made my anxieties worse.
And then I hear my mother's voice coming out of me (where did that come from, I wonder?), and I force myself to relax my shoulders, to soften my voice to a whisper.
Pro-life women can also soften the message: Ms. Fiorina has said, "I myself was not able to have children of my own, and so I know what a precious gift life is".
Could I soften the impact by being the one to tell the story myself?
But that way I can soften my beard, shave by touch in the shower, and not cut myself, so I don't bleed.
So I prefer using whole seeds and grinding them myself after a good soaking in wine and water to soften them.
I said, 'I like "temper", but I need something to soften it.' I put 'tinie' in front of it, and that was it… I've always been advised to work hard and be able to do everything by myself.
