Women are not unicorns - Маргарита Резник

Does it sound scary?

Few people think like that.

I didn’t have enough gunpowder and self-confidence then, although later I saw a lot of examples of people not giving up and winning.

Do you know why I was hysterical, why I panicked?

My cousin was killed in St. Petersburg the year before. He was only forty, an entrepreneur, husband and father of a small son, he fell under someone’s hand, and I don’t even know what happened there.

My mother constantly reminded me of Vita. For her, my move to the City of Broken Lanterns turned out to be a huge stress. And we both succumbed to the influence.

Every time we talked on the phone, she told me: “Be careful.”

And she is a mother, you can understand her, but it is completely unimportant to synchronize with her emotionally.

If I hadn’t tried to prove to her then that Peter was safe, I would have looked at things more soberly.

I would buy an expensive suit, a car, and visit investors looking for investments in my incredible talent, IQ, and acumen.

Well, like many others, I gave up. Do you recognize yourself? Which one of you here has balls of steel? And who, like me, is a coward and lives according to the practice for years, afraid to stick his nose out?

Do not be afraid. I managed it anyway and went for the second approach.

I then returned Vladislav after about a month. We talked a lot, and I apologized. Girls, at such a moment, you need to realize that a man will not hear you until you apologize a thousand times. Even if you are right a hundred times, if it is actually mutual fault, do not even try to explain it to him.

Useless.

First we apologize, openly, honestly, eye to eye, then we listen to all the shortcomings, disadvantages and what infuriates him. And finally we fix it. No need to argue. That's all later. Then, when he loves you again, trusts you, when he starts to hear you again, maybe after six months or a year, you will begin to express your point of view on the events that happened, gently and reasonably, gradually, not at once.

This trick will only work for you if you really love your man and want to be with him. You should completely forget about your grievances. For a while, of course. You can write them down in your diary so that you can return to this conversation in a year, and until then forget it.

Are you laughing? Me too. But, it worked for me twice.

We all agreed on the same debts. It was necessary to somehow resolve the issue in order to live peacefully further, and only then have sex.

We listed all our debts, highlighted those that need to be paid monthly and those that we can handle. With the rest, of course, not creditors, we agreed that we would return it no earlier than in a year or two.

And they started working. My husband found a profitable business and I joined. After two years, we actually paid off all our debts and bought a car. They also started investing in charity again.

Relationships were restored, love became stronger, life got a little better.

Flirting is a special type of betrayal that you should pay attention to as a trigger. This, of course, is not yet betrayal itself, but it is already close.

Who has never flirted in your life while being paired with another partner, stand up, I will give you a medal. We will all applaud and add you to the Red Book.

And we, earthly sinners, will continue to discuss bad deeds.

Kidding.

Flirting is a special way for a woman to feel attractive and sexy. When her libido is off the charts, it would be better for her husband to notice this and start flirting with her. Not openly, of course, he declared: “let’s go to bed,” but he was flirting.

We don't like monotony. The same man with the same approaches: “baby, you’re so sexy today, let’s go to bed” is bland, just like we are boring for them, probably when we don’t try to prettify ourselves and play different roles a little.

So, if a woman’s panties are stuck to the ceiling from another man, good luck, this is a bell. Not because we have a free-spirited nature, but because some other male representative turned out to be more charismatic than ours.

In the rented apartment where my husband and I lived in the poor twelfth year, a neighbor lived permanently. A tall eighteen-year-old guy with wild narcissism and good looks.

It seemed to me that he fell in love with me and every now and then he stopped himself from making any hints about the relationship between us, because I was busy.

I allowed myself to see him as a man, not a child, and flirt a little. What did all this lead to?

One evening, when my husband was on a business trip, I couldn’t get through on the phone.

And finally, at the other end of the phone, I hear the voice of a drunken Vladislav:

— I most likely won’t come again. I'm fine. Be happy. Bye.

I suddenly wanted to take a rock (not a rolling pin) and scratch his head. I was so angry. Did he really not have the courage to say everything to my face, to leave me sober? Finally, listen.

I lit a cigarette and cursed out loud. Mark saw me on the balcony upset and so defenseless that his instinct to take care of the poor woman took over.

We hugged, I shared a cigarette with him:

— Let's go to the bar.

— But