“All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.” The Five People You Meet in Heaven, Mitch Albom

What bothers me the most about my parents is the sheer inability to prioritise their lives. I'm not that old and I don't misconceptions with regard to my own life experience but I know without a shadow of a doubt that if I were to make the decision to procreate I would make peace with the fact that from then on, for better or worse, my life would no longer be my own. I would commit myself to the bump, be prepared to make personal sacrifices for the happiness of my child and know that I would be unable to put myself first in any situation from that point onwards. I believe 9 months would be plenty of time to make that decision.

For years now I've been told I'm selfish. That I should stop thinking about myself. After all, do I really want my parents to die alone? I should stiffen up that upper lip put aside my differences with their chosen partners and be happy for them. Fuck that. They chose to have me, I was no accident I was a planned and celebrated foetus. To stamp all over me, to throw me between houses for convenience and to push me out of their lives on request is not fair. "Well lifes not fair" I hear you say. Well no it fucking isn't and I don't think I should be expected to bend over and accept the mess I find myself in because I am not responsible for creating it. I'm all for making ones bed and lying in it. But right now I'm camped out in someone elses fucking bed and I was never in the least bit welcome or invited.

Whats more ... yes I would prefer my parents to die alone if it ment escaping thier miserable excuses for lives. If they had found untold happiness with thier new partners, once-upon-a-time-happily-ever-after type shit then sure I'd swallow it and deal with it. But when I see my Mother in tears acting like a 2008 revised born again lesbian version of the downtrodden 1950s housewife and when I see my Daddy acting like a shadow of what he was when I was his only daughter it breaks my heart. One day they will both face up to the mistakes they've made by which time it will be too late to make amends. The only good that can come of this is the hope that their grandchildren will benefit from their parent's lessons learned. As long as I have good misery and good company I'll be ok, that much I've learned for myself.