I use 'Choice Theory' like a toolkit for healthier connections. First, I ditch the habit of demanding change from others—it’s futile. Instead, I ask myself, 'What can I do differently?' Maybe it’s adjusting my tone or choosing empathy over frustration. When my partner forgets chores, I suggest a shared calendar rather than nagging. It’s practical and non-confrontational.
Theory isn’t just for therapists; it’s daily stuff. I prioritize quality time (the 'fun' need) by planning hikes or game nights, reinforcing bonds without pressure. If conflicts arise, I avoid 'you' statements and focus on my feelings. It’s surprising how often this defuses tension. The goal isn’t perfection but progress—tiny steps that make relationships feel lighter and more intentional.
In my relationships, 'Choice Theory' boils down to owning my part. If a friend cancels plans, I resist sulking and reflect: maybe they’re overwhelmed. I text, 'No worries—let’s reschedule when you’re free.' It acknowledges their autonomy while keeping the connection alive. I also celebrate small wins, like when my sibling chooses to call first. Positive reinforcement strengthens bonds.
Boundaries are crucial too. I say no without guilt when needed, respecting my 'freedom' need. It’s not selfish—it’s sustainable. This balance of flexibility and self-respect keeps relationships grounded.
Applying 'Choice Theory' in relationships means recognizing that we control our own actions, not others'. I start by focusing on my needs—survival, love, power, freedom, and fun—and express them clearly without blaming. For example, instead of saying 'You never listen,' I say 'I feel unheard when I talk about my day.' It shifts the dynamic from criticism to shared problem-solving.
I also practice active listening, validating the other person's perspective even if I disagree. It's about creating a safe space where both parties feel their choices are respected. Small gestures matter; a simple 'What do you think?' can open doors to compromise. The key is consistency. Over time, this approach builds trust and reduces conflicts, making relationships more fulfilling and less about power struggles.
I keep it simple: 'Choice Theory' reminds me that happiness in relationships starts with me. When annoyed, I pause and ask, 'Is this worth my energy?' Often, it’s not. I focus on what I can change—my attitude or approach. Compliments and gratitude become habits; they cost nothing and build goodwill. If someone’s rude, I don’t retaliate—I disengage. It’s liberating. Relationships thrive when both sides feel free yet valued.
2025-06-23 23:49:37
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Choosing You
Jaycee Leigh
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I've crushed on Ethan McKay since the moment I laid eyes on him. After a year and a half of going to the same college, he still has no clue I exist. Aside from my best friend, I'm practically invisible since I've spent the last seven years of my life purposefully living in the shadows, just waiting for my life to begin. Not that it matters. He's got his own life to live anyway. Parties to attend. Girls to see. And a father to impress so he can regain his trust, and earn back his rightful place in the family business. So, how is it that one night, one party, changes everything for the both of us?
Step 1: Go to college. Check.
Step 2: Find a job. No luck.
Step 3: Start a family. Whoa, one thing at a time.
Alicia Chambers was stuck on Step 2. No matter how many resumes she sent out, she couldn’t find a job in her dream field: phone app development. It seemed like most successful apps were started by a single inspired person in their basement, including the most recent craze, Monster Go.
If only Alicia could find her own inspiration for an app…
Drawn into the game (research, she told herself), she meets a mysterious stranger who also plays. He’s perfect for her: rich, handsome, and nerdy. However, despite formerly being in app development himself, Jacob seems to have left it all behind.
Between romantic dates and catching monsters, Alicia finds herself growing closer to the mysterious man. But when she learns something that he deliberately kept hidden, will she flee his secretive life?
Will she let him know her own secret- that she’s carrying a little gift from all their time “playing” together?
I Choose You is a standalone romance novel. If you like new adult stories, you’ll enjoy this story of two people finding love over a phone app.
After my girlfriend returns from a month-long business trip with her first love, she notices that I've changed.
She sides with him to take over my project, but I don't quit in anger. Instead, I throw myself into helping him, even drafting proposals for him.
She destroys the design I worked so hard on to help him snag the year-end bonus, yet I don't try to defend myself. I take all the blame and let her punish me however she likes.
Even when she goes as far as to promote him to general manager against the rules, I don't get upset. I hand over all my shares, letting her distribute them as she wishes.
My girlfriend wonders why I've suddenly become so submissive, while her first love just grins smugly.
"See? I told you—giving him the cold shoulder works. Once he's afraid of losing you, he'll fall in line," he says.
It clicks for my girlfriend. She smiles, tells me I've been good, and offers me a promotion.
Then, she unexpectedly asks me to propose. But she doesn't seem to realize that while we weren't speaking, she has already signed my resignation papers.
And I've already broken up with her.
From this moment on, I sever all ties with her, and we no longer have anything to do with each other.
"I'm sorry for what I'm about to tell you. I just don't want you to have any misconceptions about this marriage."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't like beating about the bush, so I will go straight to the point. I don't like you and don't want to get married to you. I had to consent because my mother requested this from me, and I just couldn't say no to her."
"What are you now trying to say?"
"You shouldn't have any expectations from me or from this marriage."
Choices, life if full of them and each one offers several paths to walk down.
Mary knows all about choices. It was because of a string of them she went from living a happy life with her parents to end up an orphan working in the castle kitchen.
Mary is now working hard while praying she wouldn't be kicked out on the street. The man she loves, her best friend, doesn't see her but is courting another woman who does her best to make Mary feel worthless. To top everything off, the sickness is back in the city which means Mary's only refuge is gone. She is trapped and she feels like a trapped animal.
That is when Lady Tariana comes back into Mary's life. She was the one that saved Mary when she was a child. Now she is back and she offers Mary new choices, travel back with Lady Tariana to her home. It's just one choice, but with each of the choices comes a myriad of new choices and consequences.
Can she leave her love behind? Would she managed to survive in a new world? And what about magic? Does it really exist? Time is running out and she needs to make her decision or the world will make it for her.
When Avery moves to a new town after a family tragedy, the only person she trusts is Dante, the stepbrother who became her safe place. Their bond is built on late-night secrets and the unspoken promise that they will always choose each other.
Then Grayson Hayes, the town’s golden boy, enters her world.
What begins as a harmless dare—make Grayson fall in love and prove she can walk away—quickly becomes something real. As Avery starts to see a future beyond the life Dante built around her, the fragile balance between them begins to crack.
When the truth behind the game explodes in front of the entire school, friendships shatter, loyalties are tested, and Avery is forced to decide who she truly wants to be.
Because sometimes the hardest choice isn’t who loves you.
It’s the person you choose back.
Choice Theory, developed by Dr. William Glasser, is all about personal responsibility and making decisions that align with our needs. One real-life example is education—schools adopting Choice Theory focus on student-driven learning. Instead of rigid curricula, students pick projects that excite them, like designing apps or writing novels. This boosts engagement because they see the value in their work.
Another example is therapy. Counselors using Choice Theory help clients recognize they control their actions, not external events. A person stuck in a toxic job might realize they can resign or reframe their mindset, rather than blame the boss. Even in relationships, it’s visible—couples learn to express needs assertively instead of demanding change. The theory’s power lies in its simplicity: we’re architects of our lives, not victims of circumstance.
Choice Theory totally flips the script on how we view personal freedom. It’s not about external control or societal expectations—it’s about internal empowerment. According to William Glasser, every action, thought, and feeling stems from our choices, even if they feel automatic. We’re not victims of circumstance; we’re active participants. Freedom isn’t just the absence of constraints but the ability to select behaviors that align with our needs: survival, love, power, fun, and freedom itself.
The theory dismisses the idea of mental health as something dictated by external forces. Instead, it argues that psychological struggles arise from unmet needs and poor choices. For example, depression isn’t just a chemical imbalance—it’s a signal that our choices aren’t fulfilling us. The real kicker? Even refusing to choose is a choice. This perspective is liberating but also demanding—it places responsibility squarely on us, no blame-shifting allowed. The freedom to choose is the freedom to change, and that’s both terrifying and exhilarating.
I picked up Glasser's book years ago after a rough breakup, and it completely shifted how I view my own role in relationships. The idea that we can't control others but choose our own actions and responses stopped me from falling into the blame game. Now, when my partner and I argue, I try to focus on what 'quality world' picture I'm holding onto and whether my current behavior is actually getting me closer to that. It’s not about making the other person change; it’s about managing your own stuff.
His concept of basic needs—survival, love/belonging, power, freedom, and fun—became a great checklist. If I’m feeling miserable, I run through it: which need isn’t being met, and what’s a responsible choice I can make to address it? It turns arguments from 'you always do this' into 'I need more freedom in this area, how can we discuss that?' It’s practical, but it requires ditching the victim mentality, which is the hard part.