You don’t owe prettiness to anyone. Not to your boyfriend/spouse/partner, not to your co-workers, especially not to random men on the street. You don’t owe it to your mother, you don’t owe it to your children, you don’t owe it to civilization in general. Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked “female”.
Sometimes Batman just does not know how to have normal conversations.
My parents are DEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAD.
NOBODY GETS TO BE HAPPY TALKING ABOUT CHILDHOOD, ESPECIALLY IF I’M AROUND.
He’s a rich kid with issues … lots of issues.
^THERE WE GO!^
You feel good, you feel bad, and these feelings are bubbling from your own unconsciousness, from your own past. Nobody is responsible except you. Nobody can make you angry, and nobody can make you happy.