I didn't want children because I didn't have good parents growing up and was abused severely. The world is fucked up, I remember being so angry my parents brought me into the world just to abandon me in my earliest years. Even the adult who became my guardian was shit. I never saw healthy love as a kid, and again, even if I had something to give, the world is so fucked, there's so much pain and suffering from our own human hands, we don't need more people. I didn't want to pass my suffering on, and I've always known I'd never be anything but working poor to top it off.

Anyhoo, history repeats, and I found my self in a DV situation in my mid 20s. Three years and a (forced) baby to get out. I raised him on my own from birth to 6, when I met my life partner and we've been a healthy family since. I don't regret having my son, I do regret giving his father my phone number that day, but we can't change this. I've dedicated my life to making sure my one child will be willed enough, strong enough, and supported enough to get through whatever may come. I don't live for me anymore, it's own challenge some days, but I live to secure my son as a stable adult human who feels supported, humble yet confident, curious and empathetic. Among other values. I'm trying to give him what my child hood lacked. I'm pretty proud of my son these days. He's many mental health afflictions (the main reason I wasn't supposed to have children), no different the the rest of our bloodlines, but with early intervention, I think he's a fighting chance to have the capability to find joy amongst the misery that is being human.