daughter [Theme] Page 5

With her good hand, she touched her daughter's shoulder as lightly as if the girl were a crystal vessel. A vessel filled to the brim with anger and irritation. Until recently, they were infinitely close, even invented their own secret signs, understandable only to them. It was hard to believe that now next to her is the same girl who used to laugh to tears at her simple jokes and grabbed her mother by the hand when cartoon characters got into a dangerous situation. That sweet girl has irrevocably disappeared, leaving in her place a gloomy and gloomy stranger. This transformation - there is no other way to put it - caught Peri by surprise, although she read a bunch of articles about how puberty in modern adolescents, especially girls, comes earlier and earlier. She always hoped that her relationship with her daughter would be closer and more trusting than her relationship with her own mother. After all, isn't this what we strive for all our lives: to become better than our parents, giving our children the opportunity to become better than us. But as a result, we often find that, unwittingly, we repeat the mistakes of the previous generation. Peri knew that anger often masks fear.

Social network - corruption of souls of mankind.
In social networks, and wives and husbands, For five ten thousand, or even more, In sex groups, chat rooms ... Flirting with them, with someone there... Whose daughter, son, and husbands, Yes did not know the mother, whom she gave birth. Photo in the publicity, Saw someone's wife. From chest pain, I took it and left. He deserved it, Mat through the mat, for lying his Soul callous, rudeness, humiliation, With an insult to her, Changing the masks on his face, Like that Judas Iscariot, Ghost, like a monster. No, even worse! He's a Thief! Time thief! A crook, a pervert to the fullest! Broadcasting himself to young girls, And even in the group took part, young girls filmed, And every week give him, Any, and even young, But every girl loves her own, like a soul native. It's bad that they go to the side, look for another, But, the hatred of lies has been revived in her even more, She departs from people like you, the Bible itself says: "People are goats!" for unrepentant sins, Who is it? - ...!!! A clown with eggs in his hands! The whole world recognized you, Pedophile, Goat, Maniac!

I'm sure that even without my strength, it's still dangerous. Maybe I don't have fins or even a voice right now, but I'm my mother's daughter. I am the deadliest creature in a hundred kingdoms.

I really want my own family, I want independence. I just live with my parents now, I can't move out. In an Armenian family, according to tradition, a daughter can move out only if you get married. That is, I can't leave alone, only if someone takes it. Like a sofa. "Karina. Excellent condition. Only pickup."

- I'm not a mortal husband! Before you is a woman. I am Eowyn, daughter of Eomund, and I argue with you about my sovereign and kin. Watch out if you are not immortal! I will hack you, black undead, if you touch him.

Trouble, comrades, we have a sense of ourselves. Maybe not everyone, but many. And in the Church especially. Here, recently advised at a lecture to girls to write out on a sheet of all their positive qualities and then look at it all. Then he writes one to Direct: "Father Andronicus, I can't. I've been taught that you can't think well of yourself." That's it. Curtain.
I stand in confession and understand that such a problem, if not all, then through one. Because they read smart books with an immature consciousness and listened to the "right" advice. And then come those to confession, who directly say "I'm bad/bad", and who it just lips between the words. Recently, in very difficult cases, I have to conduct a little dialogue with people in confession. And since the format of confession implies that you have no more than a minute or two for psychotherapy, you have to develop clear and effective formulations.
So, when the "bad" ones come to me, I usually have the next conversation with them. The reaction is usually typical, but for convenience I will tell you an example. A familiar girl in her twenties came to me recently for confession:
- Father, I'm bad (Christian, wife, daughter, man - need to be inserted)
I answer:
- Look, if there are two opinions on any issue, yours and the Lord God, then what opinion should we choose?
"Lord God," he says.
- That's nice. Tell me, does God have bad ones?
- Nope.
- So what are you?
Pause... Then slowly:
- Not bad...
- Not bad, but..?
*inexplibly mooing*
- Speak up...
She looks up and says,
- Good? - and roars. Satisfied so stands, joyful, and roars.
Because they stuck a man. Because she was ashamed of herself to say she was good.
And then you need to explain to a person that we are all good for God, but at times assholes. That is, we have problems, there are sins and mistakes, yes. But the Lord looks at us as beloved children. Stupid, with a jerk, but loved. And after such a realization that I am good for God, but I have problems, it is already possible to talk about some adequate spiritual life.
If you have just read this text, and you think that now "everything is clear", please do a favor. Sit in an empty room in the presence of God, and say out loud, "I am good. But jerk. Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner." And you will understand that in such a mood you want to repent, and pray, and live.
Good luck to all. And remember, you're good!

When it comes to our, female relations with fathers, there is no middle ground, only extremes.

In Kokame there's nothing for me.
- We can go back to being a family.
- We both want this. You want to think so, but it's not true. Your family is your men.
- I want to be with their children.
In Bebbanburg still can be, but you don't want to be Lord of Kokama. And I don't want to live there. Father, we are strangers, we go where sent by the gods and they lead me to the land of the Danes. Let me go, for the sake of all Saxons.
- I have many of them for sacrifice!
- I don't no sacrifice. Father, I want to live among the people of my mother. I want to get back that part of herself that died with her. Besides... Sigtryggur gentle. He is a man of honor.
- You must take care of me. You nothing from me got.
- You gave me a lot. In my veins your blood. And it drives me forward. Give me the opportunity to live your life go by without knowing where it will eventually lead. Let me go.

- Wait! Sorry to doubt, but don't do it. This is not the way. Godmother, you're not. I know.
- I doubt it.
- No, I know. You're my mother.

Great posture and the ability to stand made her imperious and majestic, as if she's some sort of Duchess, and not the Miller's daughter, who was not lucky to be born with the gift.

- You don't understand, it's over!
- It's not over. Not now. Let ends tomorrow, the next day, but not now. While the people who attacked the Ambassador's daughter, walk safely, the end should not be.
- What have you been doing all these nine years? You don't believe her!
<...>
- If I didn't have Affairs at will, I would have killed you, and I don't care about time.
- Wah-wah, I hurt you, right? Needed to believe before, believe now. Even knowing the guilt, you had to believe as you do now.
- Shut your mouth!
- You shut your mouth! I spit on your partnership and friendship. But I can't take what you did to that girl. I can't take it.

You're making me a liar and, worse, sympathetic to the offender. And my company, my brand, was created specifically in order to give the woman a voice after they stopped. And here I am, the daughter of a man who is trying to silence them.

You're right, in case you're confused. And if you think a pair of sunglasses and dark lipstick will be enough for me to accept, then you have a problem not with the mother but with brains.

Photo of us after the birth of Fallon. Look at Fallon. So cute I was, until I began to speak.