The Lie We Tell Ourselves About Parenthood

Kids Aren’t a Retirement Plan

When I was in university, I had one of those late-night, half-serious, half-bullshitting conversations with a group of classmates about our futures—you know, the classic where do you see yourself in ten years? kind of talk. We were young, full of caffeine and delusion, convinced that life would unfold like a Pinterest board:

Graduate. Get a job. Find a spouse. Get married. Have kids.

Easy peasy, right?

What shocked me wasn’t just how many of them assumed they’d have kids—it was how mindlessly automatic it all seemed. Like this is what you do because, well, what else would you do?

So, naturally, I had to poke the bear.

"But why?"I asked. "Why do you want kids?"

And let me tell you—the answers were so bad, I still remember them years later:

- “Well, everybody has kids.”

- “I don’t want to be alone when I’m old.”

- “My parents would be devastated if I didn’t give them grandkids.”

- “It’s just… normal? What else would I even do with my life?”

- “I want a mini-me!”

Not a single one said, "Because I love children." Not one of them said, "Because I think raising a human being would be fulfilling."

Nope. The overwhelming theme was obligation, fear, and selfishness.

Some of these people are parents now. And it went exactly as expected.

Some are divorced, and their kids are tossed between two households like a UPS package. Some pay nannies to do the parenting while they focus on their careers. Some dump their kids in expensive boarding schools to maintain their "busy" lifestyle. Some, who were barely capable of taking care of a cactus, are now responsible for an entire human being.

And here’s the best part: none of them seem particularly happy.

But why would they be? Parenthood was never about joy for them. It was about checking a box, fulfilling an expectation, making sure they weren’t the weird ones who skipped the baby train.

Society has turned having kids into a moral duty, a supposed golden ticket to meaning, legacy, and "someone to take care of me when I’m old." We’re told children will love us unconditionally, will be by our side in our final years, and will ensure we don’t die alone.

But here’s the ugly truth:

It doesn’t work that way. At all.

Which brings me to today’s inspiration: Gene Hackman and his wife.

Found dead and partially mummified in their home. Yes, mummified.

As in, they had been dead so long that their bodies literally started drying out like an ancient relic in a pharaoh’s tomb. And you know what makes this even more horrifying?

Gene Hackman had three grown children.

Now, I don’t know what their relationship was like. Maybe it was strained. Maybe it was toxic. Maybe the kids were heartless, or maybe they were just caught up in their own lives. But here’s the fact you can’t ignore:

Their 95-year-old father and his wife were left alone so long that they turned into corpses, and nobody noticed.

So much for "kids will take care of you."

And it’s not just him. It happens all the time.

Elderly parents, dumped in nursing homes, waiting for visits that never come. Grandparents, sitting in silent apartments, staring at the phone, hoping for a call. Some don’t even get that.

Like this 82-year-old man in Italy who called the police because he was "desperate for someone to talk to." Or the countless cases of elderly people dying alone, their bodies only found when the smell starts seeping through the walls.

And yet, people still have kids believing it will guarantee them a safety net. That children will be some insurance policy against loneliness and death.

But the reality is this: If you weren’t someone worth loving before, kids won’t magically fix that.

So why do people keep buying into this lie? Why is there still this delusional belief that children will stay glued to their parents forever, sacrificing their own lives in some poetic display of devotion?

And—most importantly—why do people still refuse to admit that parenthood isn’t for everyone?

The Cycle of Neglect & Emotional Starvation

I have a friend from a broken family. Her mom was 17 when she married—a literal child—and her parents had to sign off on it because, you know, 1970s rural South Carolina, where this kind of thing was “normal.” She was so head-over-heels in love with this guy who turned out to be the living embodiment of a disaster. The dude was a jobless, alcoholic, abusive mess. He’d disappear for days on end, spending all their money on booze, come home wrecked out of his mind, and then smack her around. But, oh no, that didn’t stop her—she had a kid with him. My friend. The one who would grow up knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her worth was never for her—but for whatever fucked-up role she was supposed to play in her parents' misery.

Things only got worse. This guy packed his bags, found another woman, and ditched her with a newborn. But he wasn’t done yet. He’d crawl back now and again—not to see his daughter, not to check on his family—but to slap his wife around, tell her she was worthless without him, and drain her bank account. She was working two jobs, and this 19-year-old was still trying to save her marriage. She thought maybe having another baby would make him “realize” how much he needed her. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. He beat her so badly she almost miscarried. And then—surprise—he took off. For good. She was 20 years old and suddenly a single mom of two. With no help. Nothing.

And enter my friend, the eldest. Thrust into a role she was never ready for. At a time when she should have been figuring out who she was, she was taking care of her baby brother, cleaning the house, cooking, doing everything while her mom was working two or three jobs just to survive. She still managed to keep up with her grades, got into college, and took on even more jobs to help her mom. And her brother? Well, he’s still the same goddamn problem, no better than he was when he was a kid. And mom? Mentally checked out, struggling with her own demons, unable to keep a job, leaving my friend holding the entire broken home together. Now, in her 30s, guess what? She’s still the one cleaning up everyone else’s mess. Still taking care of her sick mother and her leech of a brother. Is this the life a responsible parent would wish for their child? Absolutely fucking not.

When you bring a child into this world for your selfish reasons—whether it’s to save your marriage, pad your wallet, or fill the emotional void you’ve been too lazy to fix—it’s a death sentence for the kid’s soul. These are the children who grow up knowing they were never wanted for who they are, but for what they could provide.

Let that sink in. They grow up emotionally starved, suffocated by the weight of their parents’ brokenness, left to play a part they never auditioned for, in a script that was never meant for them.

And here's the brutal truth:

- A 2023 survey showed that 26% of adults have cut ties with their fathers. And 6% have done the same with their mothers.

- Studies tell us that parents who have kids to patch up their own emotional wreckage breed resentment, disappointment, and an emotional distance that’s impossible to close. And guess what? That coldness gets passed straight to the kid.

- Oxford University dropped a truth bomb, revealing that 40% of elderly parents don’t even get a damn visit from their grown children. Yeah, that's right—40%.

A child is not your Band-Aid. Not your fixer-upper. Not your emotional crutch. You don’t get to throw a kid into the chaos of your life, hoping they’ll fix what you never bothered to repair. But that’s exactly what too many parents do. And then they wonder why their kids grow up angry, bitter, and searching for love they were never given. The cycle of emotional starvation isn’t just cruel—it’s soul-crushing. And when the kid reaches adulthood, they’re either drowning in resentment or clawing for the validation they never got. It’s the worst kind of hunger—one that never goes away.

The Myth of ‘Family Loyalty’ & the Guilt Trap

One of the biggest lies society feeds us is the idea that children owe their parents. The guilt trip starts at an early age and never really lets up:

- “We raised you, so you must take care of us.”

- “After everything we sacrificed, you can’t even pick up the phone?”

- “You owe us respect because we gave you life.”

Let’s cut through the bullshit: Love is not a debt. It’s not something you owe just because someone gave you a roof over your head or some food on the table. That’s literally their job. That’s what they signed up for when they decided to have kids. There’s no hidden “you owe us everything forever” clause just because they played their part in giving you the most basic necessities. Newsflash: just because someone brings you into the world doesn’t mean they’re entitled to your life, your time, or your undying loyalty.

Take a look at Peter Ruckman—a well-known scholar who lived his life expecting respect, loyalty, and emotional support from his sons. The reality? His sons cut him out of their lives completely. When he died, they refused to claim his body. They left it unburied for weeks. Oh, you might think that’s just some random act of cruelty, right? Wrong. It wasn’t cruelty—it was a rejection of a parent who had emotionally failed them. They weren’t angry at him for nothing —they were angry at him for not being the father they needed, for failing them emotionally, for demanding loyalty they hadn’t earned. And do you know what? That’s exactly what happens when parents don’t do their job: they don’t get to manipulate their children into eternal servitude just because they birthed them into this world.

You know what’s even more insane? In China, the government had to step in and pass a law literally forcing children to visit their elderly parents. You heard that right. The government had to get involved because neglect had gotten so bad that family loyalty was nothing more than a farce. If “family always takes care of each other,” then why does the government have to legally intervene to make children show basic decency to their own parents? If “family” was really as sacred as they tell us, why do entire societies need to legislate basic familial responsibilities? It's a slap in the face to the whole “family bond” myth.

The truth is, we’ve all been sold a lie. A toxic, suffocating lie that tells us family loyalty is an unbreakable bond that goes above everything else—your mental health, your boundaries, your happiness, even your own well-being. Society paints it like a golden rule: Family is family, and you have to take care of them, even if they’ve done nothing to deserve your care. Even if they never showed up for you emotionally, even if they left you in the dust, even if they hurt you. The message? It doesn’t matter. You owe them.

But guess what? You don’t.

Loyalty isn’t something you owe —it’s something you choose. And if your “family” has emotionally abandoned you, manipulated you, or mistreated you, your loyalty to them doesn’t just go out the window—it should go out the window. And if anyone makes you feel guilty about cutting toxic people out of your life, including your own damn parents, it’s because they’ve bought into that same lie.

The truth is brutal: You don’t owe anyone anything, especially if they didn’t give you what you needed growing up. If your parents were emotionally neglectful, absent, abusive, or manipulative, their “sacrifice” doesn’t buy them unlimited access to your time or your life. They don’t get to hold the “I gave you life” card over your head like some trump card that forces you into servitude. They chose to have you, and they should have done the work that came with it. The emotional labor. The support. The unconditional love. But if they didn’t? That’s on them, not you.

The guilt trip that comes with all of this? It’s a trap. A straight-up emotional blackmail. It’s designed to keep you stuck in a never-ending cycle where you give and give, and they take and take, until you’ve got nothing left but resentment and exhaustion. It’s a setup that keeps you drowning in their needs while yours go unmet. It’s about making sure you stay small, stay weak, and stay dependent on them for validation. And let me tell you, that is a hell of a way to live—feeling guilty for wanting to take care of yourself, guilty for drawing boundaries, guilty for saying “No” when you’ve given enough and need something back.

Here’s the truth that so many refuse to hear: you don’t have to love people who’ve failed you just because they’re family. You don’t owe anyone anything if they haven’t given you the love, care, and respect you deserve.

If your family can’t respect your boundaries, can’t honor your emotional well-being, and can’t provide the love you need, then they don’t get a free pass to drain you dry. They don’t get the right to demand your time, your energy, and your heart just because they share some DNA with you.

So, next time someone tries to guilt-trip you with that “family loyalty” crap, remember this: Loyalty is earned. It’s not automatic. It’s not owed. And it sure as hell isn’t something anyone should demand from you as a lifelong debt just because they popped you into existence. No one gets to use their “sacrifice” as an excuse to take more than they give. And if you’re giving more than they ever did for you, maybe it’s time to walk away, guilt-free, and stop playing into the trap.

The Inevitable Irony: The Loneliness They Tried to Escape

Ah, the irony. The tragic, laughable, gut-wrenching irony of it all: the very people who had children to avoid being alone in their old age end up exactly where they feared—alone. Like, deeply alone. So alone, it’s almost poetic in its brutality.

Take Japan, for instance. The country has been grappling with the phenomenon of kodokushi—or “lonely deaths”—where elderly people pass away in their apartments, only to have their bodies discovered weeks or months later. And get this: many of these people had children. Children who were nowhere to be found. Imagine that—pushing out a kid to give you company in your twilight years, only to have that kid forget you exist when you need them the most. But hey, at least they gave you a grandkid to dote on, right? Oh wait… never mind.

Meanwhile, back in the U.S., nursing homes are bursting at the seams with elderly parents who have been abandoned by their children. And don’t even get me started on visitation rates. According to a 2019 AARP report, 60% of nursing home residents don’t get a single visitor. Not a single damn person shows up to check on them. What was that about kids taking care of their parents in their old age? Oh yeah, that’s right: It’s a nice thought, but one that’s completely ignored when they realize their parents aren’t convenient anymore. It’s like, surprise, surprise: When kids have their own lives, priorities change. It turns out, getting them to your bedside when you’re old and fragile is just a little less urgent than their brunch plans or Netflix binges.

Now, let’s talk about India. Once upon a time, families lived under one roof—multi-generational households, everyone in their place, taking care of one another. But times change. And now? Elderly abandonment is on the rise. So much so that “old age homes” have become a thing—which is just a fancy name for dumping grounds. That’s right: in a culture that was once rooted in honoring elders, children are dropping their parents off at these “homes,” where they’ll be cared for by strangers, if at all. Talk about a slap in the face. All those years of providing, nurturing, sacrificing—only to be dropped off like yesterday’s garbage when the kids have their own lives to live.

But here’s the thing: parents assume that their kids will always be there for them. Because, hey, they gave birth to them, didn’t they? They raised them, sacrificed, put up with tantrums and teenage rebellion—so of course, their children owe them. And that’s where the delusion sets in. Kids grow up. Kids move on. Kids start their own families, make their own choices, and guess what? The only thing that’s keeping them tied to you is guilt. Duty. Obligation. Those aren’t the foundations of lasting love; they’re just chains. And when kids feel chained to their parents—especially when it’s out of guilt—they will break free. Why wouldn’t they? Who’s going to stick around for something that feels like a prison sentence?

Here’s the thing: the whole thing is a self-fulfilling prophecy. You spent your life trying to avoid being alone, thinking your children would be there to “take care of you.” And now look at you: left high and dry, lonely, and bitter. The very thing you feared is exactly what you’re facing. You thought having kids would be your insurance policy, but turns out, the real insurance policy was actually being emotionally available to them. Being the kind of parent who built real bonds, who nurtured your kids’ emotional well-being, who gave them the tools to grow into adults who want to stay connected. Not just because they have to, but because they love you. Because they want to be there.

But that’s not how it works, is it? You can't just demand loyalty, demand love, and then act shocked when your kids aren't showing up. You can’t treat them like emotional insurance, expecting them to make everything better when you’re old and fragile. You can’t expect them to take care of you when you didn’t even know how to care for them properly when they were young.

And let’s be real: kids know when they’re being used. They can smell it. They can feel it. And the minute they realize their only value to you is as a “caregiver” or an emotional support sponge in your old age, they’ll bounce. So, that empty nest you thought would be filled with love and visits? Guess what? It’s probably just going to be filled with echoes. Echoes of the loneliness you feared, but didn’t prepare for.

The Myth of Motherhood and the Freedom to Choose

When I was little, I played with dolls. But here’s the thing that always stood out: I never imagined myself as their mother. I was an aunt, a career woman, an adventurer. My Barbie dolls didn’t need to be moms—they were scientists, doctors, models. The idea of being a mother? It didn’t fit. It wasn’t my thing, and it never was. Maybe because from the beginning, I just knew. I didn’t need to be a mother to feel important or fulfilled.

And I still don’t. I don’t need kids to validate my existence. I don’t need a mini-me to prove I’m worthwhile, or a tiny version of myself to fill some empty, societal checklist. I don’t need kids to carry on my name like it’s some sacred torch passed down from the gods. What a joke. Kids aren’t a legacy. You’re the legacy.

We’ve been sold a lie. Society loves to shove this idea down our throats: that if we don’t have kids, we’re somehow incomplete. “Oh, you’re child-free? What a shame, you’re missing out on life’s most precious experience!” Really? Or maybe, just maybe, we’re the ones who actually get it. We’re the ones who aren’t chained to a system that expects us to breed and procreate just to feel like we matter. We’re the ones who understand that freedom isn’t just a word—it’s a lifestyle.

You think I’m missing out? Nah. I’m living on my own terms, not trying to meet some weird societal expectation. I don’t need kids to complete my existence. My life is full on its own. If the people in my life are there, it’s because they choose to be there. Not because they’re obligated by some invisible chain of DNA or because I forced them into my world. That’s what real connection is: when someone stays in your life because they want to, not because they were born into it.

So, yeah. I don’t have kids. And I don’t need them. Maybe I’m the one who’s free.

The Courage to Live Without a Crutch

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not knocking people who choose to have kids, if they’re doing it for the right reasons. I admire the hell out of those who parent because they actually love it, because they want to raise the next generation to be strong, kind, and capable humans. I think being a parent is the most important, precious job in the world. But let’s get real for a second—so many people fail at it. And they fail hard. Too many people have kids for all the wrong reasons: to fix their marriages, to fill a void, to avoid loneliness. And here’s the thing—that’s not fair to the kid. The worst thing you can do is bring a child into this world just to fill your own emotional holes. The kid didn’t ask for this. The kid didn’t sign up to be your emotional crutch.

Having kids should be about them, not you. They’re not your personal therapist, your companion, your last shot at fixing everything that’s broken inside you. They’re not here to make your life complete or to fill the gaps in your soul. Kids are their own people. They deserve to be loved for who they are, not for what they can do for you. If you want companionship in your old age, build real relationships. If you want security, build wealth and independence. If you want love, be someone worth loving. But for God’s sake, don’t have a kid because you think they’re going to be your emotional safety net when you get old. That’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to you.

The problem is that too many people bring kids into the world with the subconscious belief that they owe them—that somehow, children exist to serve the parents’ needs. And when that inevitably falls apart—when the child doesn’t turn out to be the magic cure for all of life’s problems—they’re left holding the bag. The bag of guilt, loneliness, resentment, and unmet expectations. Kids aren’t crutches, and they don’t owe you a damn thing. You made the decision to have them, and it’s your responsibility to make sure they feel wanted and loved for who they are—not for what they can provide for you.

And let’s be real, folks—life isn’t some fairytale where everything is supposed to come full circle with perfect, happy endings. Parenting is hard. It’s messy. It’s full of compromises and sacrifices, but it’s also full of love and reward when done right. If you’re not willing to do the hard work of being a good parent, then maybe you shouldn’t be a parent at all.

So here’s the final word on the subject: If you’re going to have kids, do it because you want to. Do it because you love the idea of nurturing a new life, not because you’re trying to fill an emotional hole. Don’t have a kid to give your life meaning. Give your life meaning first. And if you’re someone who knows they don’t want kids? Own it. Don’t let society’s guilt trips make you feel incomplete. Your life is your own. It’s complete with or without children, and that’s the most liberating thing you can understand. You’re not missing out. You’re living on your own terms. And trust me, that’s the kind of freedom that people with kids will never fully understand.