upworthy

honesty

Cancelled plans are the best plans.

While we tend to split humans into two distinct groups, extroverts and introverts, the reality is a bit more complex. While some people find socializing 100% energizing and others find it 100% draining, most of us exist somewhere on the spectrum in between.

For people who do identify as introverts, however, a certain amount of social masking feels necessary to maintain social expectations and common courtesy. If someone invites you to a big party, you act excited about the invitation despite having zero desire to go. And if you do go to that big party, you stand near the wall and bob your head to the music, while secretly calculating the minutes until you can leave without appearing rude.


It's not that you don't like people. You probably have close friends and loved ones and enjoy hanging out with in small numbers. But invites from people you're only semi-friends with or to gatherings that involve lots of people? That's when the mask goes on.

Creator Brok Bresser demonstrated how introverts would respond if they didn't wear that mask and it's hilariously accurate. His "pov: if introverts were honest" video has 1.2 million likes on Instagram, with hordes of introverts feeling seen in the comments.

Watch:


That simple "I don't want to" in response to "Why?" was felt in every true introvert's heart.

"'I don't want to' is REAL 😭😭"

"Sorry I couldn’t answer your call. I didn’t want to.😭"

"'I wasn’t looking forward to it' too real💀"

"What do you mean 'HANG OUT LATER'? I’m using all my energy to be around you right now 🫠"

"Canceled plans are the best plans 🤷"

But some also pointed out a rather ironic truth:

"Buuuuttttt hear me out… we STILL WANT TO BE INVITED. 😭😭😭"

"🤣🤣🤣 I want to be invited, but I don't want to go...🤣🤣🤣"

"😂😂😂😂😂 We just want to be invited and that’s it!"

There was even some unexpected support from an extrovert in the comments, who encouraged introverts to be honest when they don't have the battery life to socialize.

"As a hardcore extrovert I LOVE my introvert folks and love when they tell the truth. Makes the time we DO hang so much better. Tell me 'no' 17 times but when that one yes hits and we hang for 36 minutes before your social battery depletes, I get to truly enjoy you. 🥰"

Hear that, introverts? It's okay to say no. (Probably don't have to add the "wasn't looking forward to it" part, though. A little masking isn't a bad thing and nobody wants to be on the receiving end of that "oop.")


Despite the existence of thousands of parenting books and websites, no one can prepare you for the reality of raising human beings. I've often referred to motherhood as a roller coaster, in which you experience the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, and there's no map to show you what's coming around the bend. And sometimes it's excruciatingly difficult.

I love my children more than I can express, of course. That's a caveat that shouldn't need to be articulated. Unfortunately, it's one that oddly requires defending any time a mom dares to share the hard parts of parenting in an honest, in-the-moment way.

Writer and mother Suka Nasrallah shared a heartfelt Facebook post about her morning shower and how it was interrupted 67 times by one of her children. The post has gone viral, as mothers everywhere see themselves in her words. She wrote:


67 times

He called for me 67 times while I was in the shower

Mind you I started counting half way in, as a way to keep myself calm and not scream back, so surely it was more than 67 times.

But for the sake of transparency, 67 times

67 times I listened to him yell 'mama' and bang on the bathroom door

While I stood under the hot water drowning in my tears because I couldn't bear the sound of his voice anymore and I had no will to reply

I had no will to keep a conversation going while I was in the shower

I had no will to keep a conversation when I desperately needed a few minutes to myself

Because the coffee just didn't do it and it was barely 9 am

Because they had been up since 6:45 that morning shouting demands at me

All I wanted was 10 minutes to myself, but clearly that was too much to ask

67 times

Mama

Mama

Mama

Mama

Mama

67 times that word rang in my ears

This is why mothers are so touched out

This is why we stay awake so late knowing we're going to regret it in the morning

This is why we we are always quick to snap

This is why we are so sensitive

Because we are desensitized

We are numb

We are so beyond worn out

Burnt out

Drained

Struggling

Misunderstood

Being needed all the time is simply draining, and a mother never stops being needed

We have no visible finish line

#thisismotherhood

It has been many years since my own kids pounded on the door while I tried to get two minutes of peace in the bathroom. Now tweens and young adults, they're all sound asleep when I shower, but I remember those early years well. The little kid stage is adorable, but it's a LOT. And it's totally okay for a mom to say, "This moment sucks, I feel like I'm drowning."

And yet, even with many moms chiming in to say, "Yes! I've been there," some Judgey McJudgersons showed up in the comments to rail on this mom for complaining. One gentleman (ahem) even went so far as to lecture her about how motherhood requires dedication, patience, sacrifice, and love as if this mother doesn't know that and isn't hip-deep in all of those things. Others flat out said she was bad at parenting. Some presumably well-meaning but clearly amnesiac parents told her she should enjoy this time because someday she'll miss it.

I'm a parent of older kids and let me tell you I do not miss the shower interruptions and constant neediness of early childhood. I loved the toddler/preschool years for their wonder and innocence and sweetness, but there are parts that you couldn't pay me to relive. It's okay for two things to be true at once. Motherhood can be—and often is—magical and mind-blowingly hard at the same time.

And moms need to be able to vent during the hard times without people questioning their dedication to or love for their children. Nasrallah shared a follow-up post explaining that sharing the raw, real moments when motherhood is challenging doesn't in any way means she doesn't love being a mother.

I feel the need to "back-up" my recent post that has been circulating about my son calling me 67 times in the shower.

Motherhood is terrifying.

You're giving yourself whole to another person; committing to a lifelong relationship.

But somewhere in that fear, somewhere in the exhaustion, somewhere between not having the will to listen to someone calling you mama for another second, and shouting demands at you, and needing you for their survival, you'll catch a glimpse of your baby doing the sweetest thing.

You'll notice how the profile of your baby's face has become less chubby and more defined like that of a toddler.

Somewhere between the mental exhaustion and sleepless nights and these little glimpses, you'll find your heart swelling with a love so deep and so powerful that it quite literally sweeps you off your feet.

And in that exact moment you'll think to yourself, I'd do this 100 times over, just for this moment.

So yes, it's worth every sleepless night, every teething baby, every fever they may spike, every time they holler mama at you until your head is pounding.

At the end of it all, it's so very worth it.

Even when I complain and vent and say I just need to be alone, I still love my children with every ounce of my being, every bone in my body, every breath I take.

Saying I'm struggling does not, in ANY way, shape or form imply that I do not love my children. I adore them and would cross oceans for them in a heart beat.

The follow-up shouldn't have been necessary, though. We've got to stop demanding that mothers either sugarcoat the hard work of raising kids or chase every honest account of difficulty with some version of "but I swear I really do love my kids!"

Motherhood is hella hard. It's okay to say that and let it be a true statement all on its own. It's okay to share the beauty and the difficulty in equal measure. It's okay to let other mothers know they are not alone in their struggles and to let them know they are seen, even when they are staring at the shower wall, exhausted and overwhelmed and alone.

Thank you, Suka Nasrallah, for sharing that slice of truth about motherhood openly and honestly. And hang in there, mamas of little ones. It does get logistically easier. You will have time to yourself. You will sleep through the night. You will be able to use the bathroom uninterrupted.

And it's totally okay to yearn for that time to come, even while holding onto your children's childhoods as long as you can.

For more honest words about motherhood from Suka Nasrallah, check out her upcoming book, "Unfiltered Truths About Motherhood: Captive and Captivated."



When the owners of the Lucky Stop convenience store in Southwick, Massachusetts discovered a $1 million winning lottery ticket in a stack of discarded tickets, they could have kept it for themselves or given it to a friend or family member. Instead, they returned it to the woman who had bought it and accidentally tossed it aside—an act of integrity and honesty that both heartwarming and inspiring.

Lea Fiega bought a $30 Diamond Millions scratch-off ticket at the end of March, but she didn't scratch the ticket fully. If she had, she would have noticed two matching numbers that indicated she had won $1 million.

"I was in a hurry, on lunch break, and just scratched it real quick, and looked at it, and it didn't look like a winner, so I handed it over to them to throw away," she told the Associated Press according to WACH News.

The ticket sat in a wastebasket of discarded tickets for 10 days, until the store owners looked through them before permanently throwing them away.


"One evening, I was going through the tickets from the trash and found out that she didn't scratch the number," Abhi Shah, the son of the store owners told WWLP-TV. "I scratched the number and it was $1 million underneath the ticket."

"I was a millionaire for a night," Shah told CBS News. He began thinking of all the things he could do with the money.

But the family consulted together the next morning, even calling Shah's grandparents in India for their input. Fiega was a regular customer at the store, and the Shahs knew that the ticket had belonged to her. They also knew that she obviously hadn't meant to throw away a million dollars.

Shah told CBS News that his grandmother said, 'Let's not keep the ticket. It's not right. Just give it back to them. If it's in your luck, you will get it anyhow.'"

So that's what they did. And boy was Fiega surprised when Abhi Shah showed up at her workplace.

"He came to my office and said 'my mom and dad would like to see you,'" Fiega told WACH News. "I said 'I'm working,' and he said 'no you have to come over.' So I went over there and that's when they told me. I was in total disbelief. I cried, I hugged them."

Million-dollar lottery ticket returned to winner who mistakenly discarded itwww.youtube.com

Fiega had already felt incredibly lucky after she nearly died earlier this year after contracting COVID-19. Getting the news from her local convenience store that she had accidentally thrown away a million dollars and that the owners were returning it to her was nearly unbelievable.

"I mean, who does that? They're great people. I am beyond blessed," she said.

Fiega told WACH that she gave the family part of her winnings and that she's saving the rest for retirement. The store owners also receive $10,000 from the state lottery commission for selling the winning ticket.

Other regular customers told CBS News that they were not surprised by the Shahs' kindness and selflessness in returning the winning ticket.

"They're just purely good people," one customer said. "You can tell just by talking to them."

Thank you, Shah family, for serving as an example of doing the right thing even when you don't have to, and for giving us all a boost of faith in humanity.

With 16 years of sobriety under his belt, Dax Shepard has served as a beacon of hope for people in recovery. With a reset of his sobriety clock last week after confessing to a slip with prescription painkillers, he still is.

The actor has been open about his addiction to alcohol and cocaine, and that transparency and honesty has undoubtedly helped many people through their own recovery journeys. But recovery from addiction is not always a one-way, detour-free road. Even people who have been sober for years must be diligent and self-aware or risk relapsing in ways that are easy to justify.

That's the scenario Shepard described in his recent podcast, in which he announced that he's now seven days sober. For people who struggle with addiction, it's a cautionary tale. He didn't take a drink, and he didn't touch cocaine. His slide into addiction relapse happened with prescription painkillers—Vicodin and Percocet. He started taking prescription pain pills after a motorcycle accident in 2012, moved to taking pills with his dad who was dying of cancer, and then came a gradual spiral of justifications, lying, gas lighting, and other addictive behaviors that enabled him to abuse those pills without acknowledging he was doing so.


Shepard laid it all out to his podcast partner, Monica Padman, last week. The way he was careful at first to only take the pills his wife, Kristen Bell, administered. Then how he'd save his two nighttime pills, because they made it hard to sleep, only to take them the next day with his morning pills to get the high he wanted. How he'd ask himself if this was a slip, start feeling like he was maybe in trouble, then convince himself he had it under control.


He talked about how easy it was to convince himself it wasn't really a problem because the pill use felt "manageable." He knew if he started drinking or doing cocaine, he'd be out of control—he understood those to be unmanageable addictions. But the pain pills didn't keep him from doing his work or his dad duties or his normal daily life, so it was easy to keep using them.

Then he explained how, after more injuries this year, his painkiller use got "shadier and shadier." He started buying pills instead of just using the ones he was prescribed. When he started lying to his loved ones and was high at his 16-year sobriety celebration earlier this month—which he called "the worst hour of my life"—he knew he was in trouble.

So in recent weeks, Shepard came clean to Bell and Padman privately and gave them all of his remaining pills. He spoke to a friend he looks up to, who frankly told him that his biggest character flaw was arrogance, that he basically thought he was smart enough to outsmart addiction. He realized the only antidote to that was extreme humility.

Shepard attended an AA meeting and shared the whole story with them as well. He said it was one of the most powerful experiences he's had ever had.

"So Tuesday really was day one. Yeah. And then, so I went to this meeting and I…man, I've known the men in this meeting for seventeen and a half years because I had many attempts before I got going. And I told my whole story and I told it honestly. And I went first and I was crying and it turned into the most incredible, like, 90 minutes I've ever experienced, where there was just so much love and there was so much understanding and kindness in unconditional love.

And it's the only—there's probably been many others—but it's the only experience I can remember having that was just grace, the definition of grace, and it was very emotional and it was a really, really surreal kind of experience.

And when it was over, I actually mentally, for the first time in a very long time, felt optimistic because for the last while, a long time, I've known intellectually that things are going to get worse, that each encounter with it has gotten more shady and more dangerous, and I recognize that the next go around would be, oh, I can't get pills, let's snort heroin. And, you know, and I've had a lot of friends that I've watched go through this whole cycle.

And I finally have the humility to say I will not be any different, I won't be special, I won't be smarter. I will be exactly like everyone else."

Then he decided to come clean publicly, despite a great deal of fear and embarrassment in doing so. He said he worried about how it affect opportunities for Kristen, how it might impact him financially due to companies that might not want to work with him now, how the bombardment of judgments about what he should have done or could have done might feel, how people who looked up to him for his sobriety might feel betrayed or misled.

He ultimately decided that total and complete honesty was the only way to go. And of course, that authenticity is what his fellow recovering addicts really need to see.


"So if you got more than seven days, you got more than me. So you're my elder and I look up to you," said Shepard. "And, you know, onward and upward for all the people who have been along on this whole journey for the last few years. I feel—and this is not to sound cheesy, but I feel the same responsibility to the people who love the show and are with us, because I think it's such an emotional connection we all have."

Congratulations on your sobriety and thank you for your honesty, Dax. Onward and upward.

You can listen to Shepard's Armchair Expert "Day 7" podcast episode here.