Hard fact of life is almost no parents want their kids. Based on my observations, parents put up with their kids, they tolerate their kids, they feel at ease when they feel in control of their kids, and they feel distress whe they feel they are not in control of their kids. They take pride in their kids actions only in so far as those actions relate back to and reflect well upon themselves. They do not care about their kids, they care about themselves, they are narcissists, and they see their kids as dolls to play with. Any perceived challenge to their parenthood (that is, to their title as or label of "parent" or "being a parent") is perceived as an extreme threat to their wellbeing, and is reacted to accordingly. I think it is very sad that nearly all parents are narcissists, because nearly all people are narcissists. At least that has been my lived observation. Maybe I am a very unlucky soul, surrounded by monsters, and the rest of the world is like a wholesome slice of life anime.

A person is not a pawn. A person is not a doll. A person is not a slave. A person is not an object.

It's curious to see these same parents, who gnash their teeth and foam at the mouth, pawn their kids off to strangers, or unwell family, to raise in their stead. They are so self centered, so self conscious and self focused, they don't even see the irony of them discarding their most precious object so willingly, so eagerly. They do not care about the object, the child, they care about what it or he or she represents, and that is control, and that is power. They are thrilled to have the power. The power over another human being. Finally, one to be theirs, one to be their own, property. They are ecstatic. But they want none of the responsibility. They want none of the soul searching, the vulnerability, the honesty, the transparency, the attentiveness, the focus. They just want to live their lives, work their jobs, and they think they can feed and water a living human child like a houseplant and that it will be fine. They think they can run frantically between jobs and people and places and parties and still be able to raise a child. They really think this. They think children just grow, they think they can just be, they don't think they have to put in many a deep, silent, moment, of awareness, and of focus, for as long as it takes, quiet moments, moments of proof, moments proving to the new being that it is loved and valued, moments away from the tv or the paperwork or the books or the comics or the toys or the friends. Without those moments a broken human will be created, a human who is never satisfied, who never feels safe, who never feels worthy. And these parents will look at their broken helpless children, their crippled progeny, and still, nothing will truly register. They will still go out, and drink, and dance, and laugh, with the world, and they will suffer with the world too, to make their way, all suffer, but some suffer alone, unseen, unloved, believing they are rotten.