Dear Father,

I get it. You’re a genius. You’ve had a lot experience in this world. Your thoughts and ideas are much more valid than the “silly” opinions of your teenage daughter. And I understand that I am not always right. To you, I’m rarely ever right. In every heated discussion and disagreement, you point out the flaws in my argument and go on to explain why you are right. But for once, for once, I’d like you to let me be wrong. I don’t care about facts or statistics! I don’t care how childish and naïve I seem at the moment! Because when I seem defeated and broken and come seeking your deep insight, I don’t want to be shot down because my opinions are unreasonable. I want you to wrap me in your arms and tell me that everything will turn out fine, regardless of the reality. Wisdom is not comfort.

During our arguments over simple, stupid opinions, you throw out facts. I get your strategy. But when you say things like “You sound so stupid when you say things like that” or “There’s something wrong with your brain”, it hurts. I don’t care what else you have to say in the conversation. I don’t care what wise, comforting words you say afterwards. Because the only thing that sticks in my mind are the negatives. And I take them to heart. They cloud my thoughts each time I attempt to develop a new opinion or idea. They echo throughout my mind whenever I try to open my mouth. And why shouldn’t they? I mean, how could I doubt your excellent, profound wisdom?