la-plus-heureuse:

chrisshemsworth:

hussyknee:

mysharona1987:

“We were never that close”

Yeah, I can see why.

I pity her daughter for the misfortune of being born to this piece of absolute shit.

okay but you should really read the full response to this though:

I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around this letter. I encourage you to reread it and to ask yourself that time-honored question, “Do I sound like a villain in a Reese Witherspoon movie?” You are, presumably, sympathetic to your own situation and are invested in making sure that you come across as reasonable and as caring as possible, and yet you have written a letter indicting yourself at every turn. This girl is “like a daughter” to you, and yet you want to shove her to the side of your other daughter’s wedding just because she walks with a limp. Your daughter’s wedding will be perfect with Katie as a full and honored member of the bridal party. A limp is not a fly in the ointment; it’s a part of Katie’s life. It is not only wrong to have asked your daughter to consider excluding her best friend over this—it is ableist, and cruel, and it speaks to a massive failure of empathy, compassion, and grace on your part. You must and should apologize to your daughter immediately, and I encourage you to profoundly reconsider the orientation of your heart.

Well said.

The wedding isn’t about aesthetics. If that is the substance you seek, then life will be unbearably disappointing for you. “Perfection” is your daughter marrying someone she loves and trusts, and surrounding herself with those she cares about, welcoming them to become a part of this new phase of her life, as they were all the others. “Perfection” would be you pulling your head from your own arse long enough to see you dehumanized a young lady you claim to love, called her unsightly, diminished her character, her mind, and her spirit down to one leg that happens to malfunction. “Perfection” will be your life in thirty years, when you begin to lose the control of your bowels and have to rely on others to wipe your backside, when you have to argue that biology has nothing to do with your character, when you have to endure what it means to be treated disrespectfully by someone in your own family or peer group because your body won’t obey you.

“Perfection” would be erasing the unmitigated sociopathy that is clearly behind this letter.

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