Don’t tell your daughter that when a boy is mean or rude to her it’s because he has a crush on her. Don’t teach her that abuse is a sign of love.
My mom always taught me yell or fight back. Boys would be mean and I would yell back. I would get my ass pinched and I would smack them as hard as I could.
Who alway got in trouble? Me.
They would call my mother and she always came in and lectures my teachers and threatened to sue for making her miss work and treating me poorly.
She always taught my brothers to respect women. The only fights my brothers ever got in was defending women from someone else.
The school tried to call my father once instead of my mother on us. He came in in his full preacher outfit (being a preacher and all) and gave them an entire sermon on what would Jesus say if he was called in. They decided dealing with my mom was better.
If I pause it at the right place I can almost pretend that my blue angel is just wearing some thick blue oven mitts and isn’t suffering at the bottom of the ocean slowly losing her identity
There has to be a long German word for this feeling: “Look, I don’t disagree with you on any major points of fact or opinion, but you’re being such a smug pretentious bastard about it that I want to shove your face in regardless”
Waltersobchakeit. “You’re not wrong, you’re just an asshole.”
