There are people who sincerely believe that all people in the world are bricks. And they themselves, of course, are also bricks. Therefore, they measure all people in the world with exactly this measure. They evaluate how well a particular brick fits into the masonry, how powerful, solid, and stable it is. It seems to them that some bricks are good, high-quality, some are mediocre (not very good, but it will do), and some are just so-so: flimsy, crooked, chipped. And, of course, the goal of any brick is to become truly strong, strong, and solid. Small, fragile, can't fit into the masonry? We should not whine, but try! All your problems are due to laziness. You were born to be a brick, and you must make every effort to become the best brick. In principle, this would be a completely working scheme. If only all the people in the world really were bricks. But here’s the ambush, not all people are bricks. There are stones, concrete slabs, and logs among us. Cast iron gratings, tiles. Stucco molding, siding, stained glass. Lots of variations. And then, in the family of bricks, for example, a cast iron grate is born. He rejoices: “Oh, a new brick! The family will benefit!” He teaches her how to hold masonry, tells her about different types of mortars. Winter comes, the daughter grows up, and the loving father tries to adapt her into a load-bearing wall to fill the hole. And then it suddenly turns out that the grille allows both snow and cold air from the street to pass through. He does it this way and that - it doesn’t work. He swears and knocks on the table: “Stupid! Loser! Worst brick in the world! And then whatever happens. Whichever of the children is stronger will survive. He realizes that he is not like his parents. He will find his own in a large family, at school, in the yard. Those who are less fortunate will bet their lives on becoming a perfect brick. He will enter a brick university, and for five years he will compact himself into masonry under the contemptuous glances of teachers and classmates. Sometimes the true nature of a person is very deeply buried under attempts to adapt to the brick world. And it is extremely difficult for a person to believe that there is anything alive left under the rubble. And yet it is alive, there. It shrank, shrank - but did not go away. They tried to bury us, but they didn't know that we were seeds. Read alsoNarcissistic character therapy, part 1: http://elizaveta-zubova.ru/ya-nartsiss-chto-delat/Narcissistic character therapy, part 2: http://elizaveta-zubova.ru/kak-vyilechit-nartsissizm/