Do you want to be Helped, Heard, or Hugged?

Your daughter comes home with a troubled brow and downcast hazel eyes. You ask her how her day at elementary school went. She tells you about mean girl shenanigans and atrocities. Indignation builds, and you find yourself laying out a plan of defense for her, followed by some lines of counterattack. Your daughter looks up at you with confusion. She says But Dad, those girls are my friends. The hairpin turn is vertiginous, and you are left as confused as she is. Perhaps you should have refrained from offering reactionary, guerrilla/gorilla solutions, and instead said something like this:

 
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