Optical illusion reveals what kind of lover you are

Optical illusions exist to trick our mind into believing that we see something that doesn’t really exist or into lacking to see the obvious.

Either way, they are fun and trigger discussions. They also make us think deeply about their meaning and about what they truly represent.

The following optical illusion can help you determine what kind of lover you are based on what figure you notice first.

Being aware of this fact is sometimes crucial in building a relationship with someone.

Every bonding with the person we love is mostly grounded on communication and mutual understanding. The feelings involved are of course a crucial part of the decision to be with someone or not.

The following test will also reveal your personal method of showing your love.

This knowledge can deepen the romantic involvement with your other half and help you understand and appreciate your partner even more.

Now take a look at the image and note the first thing you notice.

These are the explanations based on your answer:

The Face:

If the face is the first thing you notice, it shows that you are determined and have your goals straight in life. You always have a plan about your next move that you are ready to fulfill with unshakable confidence. You have a reputation that you are often correct and you are born to be a leader.

As a lover, you believe that finding the time to spend together with the person you love is crucial for a successful relationship. Having someone find the time for you besides their hectic schedule is a valuable love expression. But you are wiling to do the same and make your loved one a priority.

The Trees:

You are likely someone who experienced emotional heartbreak in the past and when there comes the time for a new love, you carry the baggage from your previous love experience. You are a sensitive individual and what doesn’t leave a mark on someone else can entirely take up your mind for a long time. However, besides the scars, you don’t lose hope.

As a lover, you believe that a relationship works best if you open up. When you share your pain and deepest fears with the person you are with, you experience something deep and meaningful. To you, even a shred of emotional availability is immensely appreciated.

The Wolf:

You are likely defined as someone passionate and someone who has no lack of confidence when it comes to initiating your love desires. You are also an initiator of a great party and now how to make people feel comfortable around you. Always at the center of attention with your wit.

Your love language is physical touch. You are passionate and the physical acts of intimate love-making mean much more than words to you. The reason for this is because you have learned much more from actions than you ever did from words. You show your love to your partner through sweet and tiny physical gestures. Playing rough occasionally is your thing, but it is the gentle cuddling and nuzzling that let your soft side shine.

The Moon:

You are a dreamer who loves dancing and writing, as well as appreciating other people’s expression of these forms of art. You find inspiration in the world’s creative and spiritual side.

You express your love through art. As a lover, all of your creative work has something from your loved one tied into it. If you write a poem, you consider it an act of dedication, while a painting incorporates elements of the way your partner looks like, such as the color of their hair or eyes. Before you express your love, you need to be sure it’s the right thing.

The House:

What you seek in a relationship is the security you feel at home. You are someone who finds happiness in being mostly at home with the one you love. A perfect scene for you is sitting in front of a fire, wrapped in a blanket and feeling the coziness of your place.

You show your love by providing for the person you are with. When they are hungry, you are happy to go to the kitchen and prepare a delicious meal for them. This small act is your secret and personal method of telling the person exactly how much you adore them and how much they mean to you.

Entitled Customer Threw Fresh Juice at Me – I’m Not a Doormat, So I Taught Her a Lesson She Won’t Forget…

When an entitled customer threw her drink in my face, humiliating me in front of everyone, she assumed I’d just take it quietly. Little did she know, she was in for a surprise—and a lesson she wouldn’t forget.

That morning, I stepped into the health food store, the familiar scent of fresh produce and herbal teas greeting me. It was the start of another day at work, where I’d been earning a living for the past year. As I tied my apron, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different today.

“Hey, Grace! Ready for another thrilling day of juice-making?” my coworker Ally joked from behind the counter.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Yep, gotta keep those entitled customers happy, right?”

But the knot in my stomach told me otherwise. There was one customer who made our jobs miserable every time she came in.

We had dubbed her “Miss Pompous,” and it was a fitting name. She walked in like she owned the place, treating us like we were beneath her.

As I began my shift, I tried to put her out of my mind. I needed this job. It wasn’t just about me—it was about my family. My mom’s medical bills were piling up, and my younger sister was counting on me to help with college expenses. Quitting wasn’t an option.

A few minutes later, Ally leaned in close. “Heads up,” she whispered. “Miss Pompous just pulled into the parking lot.”

My stomach dropped. “Great,” I muttered. “Just what I needed to start my day.”

The bell above the door chimed, and in she walked, her designer heels clicking like a countdown to disaster. Without even acknowledging me, she strutted up to the counter and barked her order.

“Carrot juice. Now.”

I forced a smile. “Of course, ma’am. Coming right up.”

As I worked, I could feel her eyes on me, scrutinizing my every move. My hands began to shake under the pressure. Finally, I handed her the juice.

She took one sip and her face twisted in disgust. “What is this watered-down garbage?” she screeched. Before I could react, she hurled the entire drink at my face.

The cold juice splashed across my cheeks, dripping down my chin. I stood there, stunned, as she continued to rant. “Are you trying to poison me?” she demanded.

I blinked, wiping juice from my eyes. “It’s the same recipe we always use,” I stammered.

“Make it again,” she snapped. “And this time, use your brain.”

My face burned with humiliation as everyone in the store turned to watch. Tears threatened to spill, but I refused to let her see me cry.

Just then, my manager, Mr. Weatherbee, appeared. “Is there a problem here?” he asked, though his concern seemed more for the loss of a customer than for me.

Miss Pompous turned on him. “Your employee can’t even make a simple juice! I demand a refund and a replacement.”

To my disbelief, Mr. Weatherbee began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. We’ll remake your juice immediately, free of charge.” Then he turned to me. “Grace, be more careful next time.”

I stood there, dumbfounded. My jaw dropped. “But sir, I—”

“Just get the carrots, Grace,” he interrupted, “and remake the juice.”

Miss Pompous smirked at me, clearly enjoying my humiliation. I felt a surge of anger. For a split second, I wanted to throw my apron down and walk out. But then I thought of my mom and sister—I couldn’t afford to lose this job.

So, I took a deep breath and made a decision. I wasn’t going to let her win.

I met Miss Pompous’s gaze, refusing to be intimidated. She thought she could buy respect with her money, that she could trample over people without consequences. Well, not this time.

As Mr. Weatherbee walked away, I reached into the fridge, bypassing the usual carrots. Instead, I grabbed the biggest, gnarliest one I could find. It was tough and unwieldy, perfect for what I had in mind.

“Just a moment,” I said, sweetly, as I fed the oversized carrot into the juicer. The machine groaned in protest before spraying juice everywhere—across the counter, the floor, and best of all, onto Miss Pompous’s designer handbag.

She shrieked, snatching her bag and frantically trying to wipe off the bright orange juice. “My bag!” she cried. “You stupid girl! Look what you’ve done!”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, ma’am,” I said, struggling to keep a straight face. “It was an accident, I swear.”

Her face turned beet red. “You ruined my three-thousand-dollar purse! I want your manager!”

Trying not to laugh, I gestured vaguely toward the store. “I think he’s helping a customer over there.”

As she stomped off in search of Mr. Weatherbee, I ducked into the stockroom to hide my smile. From my hiding spot, I watched as she stormed out, still clutching her dripping bag, leaving a trail of carrot juice in her wake.

I thought it was over, but I knew Miss Pompous wasn’t the type to let things go.

Sure enough, the next morning, she burst into the store, demanding to see the owner. When Mr. Larson, the kind, older man who owned the store, came out, she launched into a tirade, insisting I be fired and demanding compensation for her ruined purse.

Calmly, Mr. Larson replied, “Let’s check the security footage.”

My heart skipped a beat. I had completely forgotten about the cameras.

We gathered around the monitor as the footage played, showing Miss Pompous throwing juice in my face and the “accident” with her purse. The room fell silent.

Mr. Larson turned to her. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you any compensation. What I see here is an assault on my employee. If anyone should be considering legal action, it’s us.”

Miss Pompous sputtered in disbelief. “But… my purse!”

“I suggest you leave,” Mr. Larson said firmly. “And don’t come back.”

With one final glare, Miss Pompous stormed out.

Once she was gone, Mr. Larson turned to me, his eyes twinkling. “That was just an accident, right, Grace?”

“Of course, sir,” I said with a grin. “Why would I intentionally ruin a customer’s belongings?”

He chuckled and walked away. Ally gave me a high five. “You stood up to her, Grace! You showed her who’s boss.”

That night, as I shared the story with my mom and sister, I realized something important: standing up for myself hadn’t just put Miss Pompous in her place—it reminded me of my own worth.

Have you ever had to deal with someone like Miss Pompous? Share your stories in the comments. Together, we can take on the “Karens” of the world!

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