A parent's love for their child is always unconditional, right? Apparently not. These parents came forward and explained what their child did that made them no longer love them. These stories will really make you reevaluate the nature vs nurture debate.
Her Baby Could Do No Wrong
“My aunt has a terrible child. We all knew from the start that he was a bad seed, except for her. That was her ‘baby and he didn’t need to see a therapist or get on medication’.
Starting around 4 or 5-years-old, he would torture animals. His favorite was kittens. My Aunt would not get her cat fixed, so the cat kept having kittens. My cousin would torture all of them. The things he did to them was horrifying. I won’t post details because it will make you sick. When he was around 11 he would chase me around with a butcher knife and talk about how he wanted to slice open my stomach. The torturing of animals never stopped. My Aunt never sought help for him. My Aunt bought some chickens one day to raise and get their eggs. He eventually killed them and laid their heads on his sister’s pillow that spelled out the first initial of her name. All because she wouldn’t buy him, a minor, cigs.
He is in his mid-20s now and is constantly in and out of jail. My Aunt doesn’t believe in medication for mental health, nor does she believe in Psychiatrists. She thinks that because she is his mother, she can solve his issues. My mom and I are afraid he is going to kill her one day.”
Never Would’ve Been A Parent
“So. I love my daughter who is turning 5 next month. I would die for her without hesitation, do anything for her even if it is the biggest sacrifice, and would choose her happiness over mine every time.
But I hate being a parent.
I wouldn’t say I regret my daughter because I could never wish her away now I know her, but if there was a way for my wife and I to have gotten a free one-month trial on parenthood before signing up, I’d have gone and gotten a vasectomy instead of her getting her IUD pulled out. Having a child is not ‘worth it’ in the way everyone promised it would be.
Her ADHD is very challenging, and it took me a lot of therapy to accept that I will be working for another 10 years because of my decision to have a child and that being a parent is this is the life I chose and no amount of longing for the disposable income/social life/freedom I had will bring it back now. I am grateful my therapist taught me that there is a huge difference between ‘I made a mistake and the wrong choice’ and ‘your (daughter) was a mistake and the wrong choice’ when it comes to fatherhood regret. But I best get on with it and do the best job I can for my daughter because she never asked to be here – we dragged her into this world.
My wife just…..can’t seem to accept this though.
We have been fighting so much lately because my wife just doesn’t want to put the kid first a lot of the time. She doesn’t want to do things that will benefit our child because it will put her out. She often doesn’t want to even do something small that will make our child happy because she doesn’t want to be mildly inconvenienced. Like letting her watch Frozen in the living room because you can hear it in the kitchen and ‘I’m sick of listening to freaking kid stuff’. Or not wanting to sign our daughter up for gymnastics or dance like she wants to do because ‘I’m not spending my freaking free time dealing with taking her to class and sitting at gymnastics meets watching kids suck, and they do at that age’. She doesn’t want to give her a birthday party and ‘waste’ a Saturday and ‘spend money we could spend on a concert or something ACTUALLY enjoyable’, and she refuses to make friends with other friends because ‘I hate other mothers’. She is desperate to cling onto her main friend group – three other women, all three of whom don’t want kids. She actively hates everything to do with mothering. I’m sick of fighting with her and explaining that even if she doesn’t want to do it, even if she doesn’t like it, even if she wishes she could take it back, she is a mother now and really needs to start to suck it up a lot more for the sake of our child who didn’t ask to be here. And she just complains and complains and complains about how she hates her life now and wishes we didn’t have a kid.
I get it.
I wouldn’t do this again if turns out the last 5 years were a dream to show us what parenting is like. But this is not a dream. It is the life we signed up for. Yes, we made a mistake and were naive with the way we romanticized life with a child, but we did and we can’t take it back. We have a kid. We are parents. We need put on our big-kid-pants and accept that this is the life we chose and that there are no takebacks on it. We bought this kid into the world which means we need to make the sacrifices even if they suck.
I’m getting so frustrated with her and just needed to vent it out. And I am terrified she is going to leave one day and force me into single parenthood because I’d have NEVER had a kid if I knew I’d have to be a single dad.”
“She Played The Long Game”
“When I was a kid, I was often made to play with the daughter of my parent’s friends, who was an incurable brat. Her goal in every interaction with anyone would be to make the other person feel embarrassed or arrange for a situation where they would come out looking stupid or end up being wrong about something. I swear that was foremost in her mind all the time, she played the long game too. I suspect some kind of personality disorder. I spent a lot of time with her growing up, and to be honest, I think it did affect my self-esteem in social interactions.
Her parents were really nice and sweet people, through and through. I don’t know when they realized, but I know her mother once asked my mother, ‘What do you do when your child is a bad person?’
Met her again for the first time in like 15 years after we happened to live in the same city. The first thing she did was insult me. Like ten times, then berate me for not wanting her friendship.”
“I Didn’t Get A Child”
“I can’t tell anyone this, even my therapist. Lambaste me if you want, and maybe I even deserve it. I only ask what you would do if you were in my situation. Not what you think ‘people should’ do. What you would REALLY do.
I’m a single mom of 2 boys. 12 and 7. My husband passed away 3 years ago in a work accident. A very large portion of me believe it was a suicide. I can’t see him EVER making the mistake he made that caused his death, and he had taken an action just before that which ensured his co-workers weren’t in the room. I fully believe he killed himself because of our younger son, and no one will ever change my mind.
We were told when I was pregnant that he would have Downs Syndrome. We could handle that. Even if it was severe. It turned out he has a chromosome deletion. His disorder is kind of rare, so I won’t post which specific one, but suffice to say he’ll never be anything more than he is now or has ever been.
And what he is, is nothing.
He doesn’t appear to have any awareness and never has. His eyes are locked in one position, he doesn’t respond to noise, touch, or pain. He is total care. He is capable of nothing. He is tube fed and on oxygen. He is in diapers and will be forever. He makes no sounds, no attempts to communicate. He never even really cried like a baby.
He has never made an attempt to interact with anyone or his environment.
I’m not upset because I got a special needs/’imperfect’ child. I feel the way I feel because this…… thing….. takes up 200% of my time and does NOTHING. I didn’t get an imperfect child. I didn’t get a child.
I don’t love him. He doesn’t have any personality, there is nothing to love. And yet, I’m responsible for him. In addition to his extreme delays, he’s also medically fragile. Respiratory crises, fecal impactions (his autonomic nervous system doesn’t function properly), issues with his G tube, infections, pressure sores no matter WHAT we put him on or how we position him.
Our older son has suffered because his non-existent brother has colored everything in his life. He’s had medical care get delayed because there’s only one of me and his brother is more critical. We do have a visiting home nurse, but only 20 hrs/week, and we aren’t eligible for more. I was starting law school, I gave up my dreams and my plan for my children for this potato. My older son can’t do a lot of things he wants to do because of the youngers need for care and appointments.
The final straw was I heard a sound. I went into Younger Son’s room to check, thinking he had forgotten how to breathe again, and saw Older Son hitting him and screaming, ‘You’re why I don’t have a mother! You’re why I don’t have a father! You’re why I can’t have friends over! You’re why I can’t be in sports! I didn’t ask for you and I hope you die!’
Instead of being horrified, I watched. And Younger Son just did. Not. React. No signs of pain or fear or upset. No reaction at all.
He breathes, but he is not alive. He doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t know who Older Son is. He has no sense of self, life experience, or awareness of his surroundings.
He doesn’t need to be in my home. He doesn’t know or care where he is. He is genetically my son, but he is not family. My previously abused, brain-damaged cat who can’t walk straight has more personality and is far more loveable than my ‘child’. In fact, I was looking FORWARD to raising a Downs baby. Even one with severe impairments, for that reason. With disability can come gifts. This boy is not a gift. He is a genetic mistake I probably should have miscarried and would have definitely terminated if I’d known he would be like this. And the flip side is, if he HAS awareness….. he’s miserable. And there is nothing I can do. If he has likes and dislikes no one knows what they are. If he is in pain he can’t tell anyone. If he wants anything, he can’t communicate. He’s had every imaginable therapy, nothing has made a difference.
And so he’s leaving our home on the 29th. I feel excited and relieved and then guilty because I know we’ll be happier with him gone.
He’s already taken my husband and my son’s father. He was working so so so much OT to pay for the cucumber’s care. For the experimental therapies, insurance wouldn’t cover. Because THIS one was going to be the BREAKTHROUGH. He was tired and defeated and disappointed. He sought counseling as well, but I don’t think he could ever say the words, ‘I don’t want my son in my home’ either.
He’s ruined my older son. I was so wrapped up in the younger, I never realized how ignored and damaged he was. He lost his father too. I didn’t just lose my husband. HE is my priority now, and this malignant lump can be someone else’s problem. At least they’ll be paid a wage to care for him. At least they’ll get a break from him when they punch out.
I just want to never think of him again, and I’m not sorry. And for that, I’m sorry.
Thanks for reading.”
“Annoying Poop Machine”
“It was a planned pregnancy. My ex-husband and I thought we wanted a kid. We looked forward to the baby, went all ‘aww look how tiny these clothes are’, prepped the nursery, all the usual stuff. Then he was born, and he was such an annoying poop machine that anything we felt for him just evaporated within a week. First we tried to play along and didn’t even admit this to each other. Then we started leaving the baby with my parents and we didn’t miss him, didn’t feel like calling to ask about him, and I could tell he doesn’t love the baby either. So we just left him with my parents (they were more than happy to raise the kid) and just sorta… never took him back home. The kid is 7 now, me and husband have since separated, I live abroad, and neither me nor him have ever felt like being around the kid. As for me personally, most of the time, I forget I even have a kid. I feel nothing for him. If he died, I would have to fake being upset. My parents would often send me pics of the kid starting school, learning to ride a bike and such, and my reaction is pretty much ‘Oh right, I have a son. Well, cool story, keep learning to ride that bike.’ Then I forget about him for another 6 months. Ex-husband visits our son once in a few months (he lives next door, can’t get away so easily), but I can tell it’s to keep up the appearances.
Sometimes I wonder if all parents feel like that, but are stuck with their kids due to societal norms. Abandoning a kid is the worst evil one can commit, so maybe no one just speaks about it openly? I know it’s probably just me lacking the parental instinct, but I really can’t imagine what it’s like actually loving your kids more than yourself and wanting to sacrifice everything for them.”
“My Aunt’s kid is a complete psychopath, he’s 12 now and can barely have a single conversation with anyone, he has huge issues being around people and will randomly just go up and push direct strangers over or into trees/objects. He barely speaks a word and spends all of his time on Minecraft, his whole life is that game and trying to do anything with him that doesn’t involve this is horrible, my entire family refuse to go out in public with him and he is not invited over for Christmas.
The last time he stayed with us, feeling sorry for him Heeding my family’s warnings, I took him to the movies, he refused to change and wore his pajamas, the theater I took him to has 2 big flights of stairs (Gold railings, red carpet, ultra nice) whilst buying tickets i turn around to see him Sparta kick a 6-year-old down the flight of stairs and then scream and spit at the mother… I was in horror and both the mother and me froze, and he just sat there laughing.. I then took him home and uninstalled mine-craft and changed the Wi-Fi password (Day 1 of 7)
The next 6 days was like watching someone coming down from a bender, with my entire family begging for me to give him the Wi-Fi password, in which I refused, to which during Christmas Eve he proceeded to try to light our Christmas tree on fire and break every present, luckily my Dad caught him and booted them both out of our house.
Looking at my Aunt, the kid never had a chance, a product of divorced parents, with them pushing him to learn the flute and refused to take him to any outside activities, his father is constantly working, so just left him alone to play Minecraft….”
The Sibling’s Perspective
“Not a parent, a sibling.
My older brother very well falls into the ‘terrible person’ category. We had a pretty big age gap, and I missed a lot of what transpired between my parents and my brother, but as I’m aging, I’m starting to understand a lot more. I’m getting pieces of the story from him and our mother, as our father passed away years ago now.
I heard horror stories growing up about my brother, how he hit the cat, or lit the rug on fire, or wet the bed for years and they were always sorta used as a measurefor me, as the younger sibling, to do better. I didn’t really register that they were really awful things as a kid, other than ‘things I shouldn’t do’.
He had trouble in high school, and ended up only getting a GED. He spent years jumping from job to job, as he most often would end up fired from one place or another for various reasons. When I went to community college, I tried to get him to go with me. He’s plenty smart enough to go to school, just terrible at attending, he dropped out shortly after.
My parents had been very hard on him as a kid, every time he had messed up. Once I showed up (younger sibling) they essentially wanted him to start being independent and they hadn’t set him up for it, I don’t think. My entire family, parents included, would clam up if you talked about emotions other than happiness. No one ever seemed able to talk about it, or it was ‘impolite’ or it wasn’t to be discussed with anyone else. We were expected to process emotions by ourselves behind closed doors. Unsurprisingly, this resulting in huge arguments between my parents and eventually divorce, but that’s another story.
I’m not saying my parents were terrible, I don’t think they were. I turned out ok, I think. I just don’t think they knew how to deal with my older brother, and it ruined him in a way. I try and do what I can for him and make an effort to be there for him.
I don’t want to go into too much detail, even with a throwaway. He’s a loose cannon, he definitely has emotional issues and he won’t seek help for them. He’s a pathological liar and slick enough to talk his way out of most things, especially with a therapist/psychologist. He isn’t self-sufficient and relies on everyone else for everything. Believe me, once I’m all he has left, he’s going to get self-sufficient real quick.
The thing that really messes me up at the end of the day, in this long debate about nature v. nurture or eco-evo-devo, whichever.
How big a part does genetics really play in this? If I have children at some point, will I end up with someone like my brother? What are the chances of that?”
“They are 14 and 17. I don’t hate them. I just have no love for them, and I never have. I feel like I’m just tolerating them, just getting along because there’s no other choice, like roommates that I can’t get rid of.
I don’t feel this way about other people. I love my spouse very much, I love my siblings and parents, and I love my nieces and nephews. But when it comes to my kids, I feel nothing. I don’t feel any pride when they do something like get good grades or overcome an obstacle. I don’t feel any sense of immortality that other people have told me they feel, in that they will live on through their children. I feel almost no connection to them, like instead of my children they are just people who live in my house (like roommates). I don’t want bad things to happen to them, but I also don’t care if good things happen to them. I don’t particularly wish them success or happiness, any more than I wish that for a stranger. If they died, I think I would feel bad, but I think only in the way you might feel bad if a distant relative or a coworker died.
I don’t treat them badly. I do all the things you would expect. I help them with homework, take them on vacation in the summer, play games with them, surprise them with treats, help them with relationship problems, etc. I just do those things because I feel like I have to, though, not because I want to.
I get very little in the way of good feelings from them. Mostly they cause bad feelings, by being shouty, lazy, rude, etc. (all the things you might generally expect of kids sometimes) They cost me money, cost me time, cost me emotions. I have sacrificed a lot in my life for them (not more than other people, but just various opportunities in life, or even things like missed social occasions), because that’s what you do, and I resent them for it. And so I spend a fair amount of time just thinking about what my life will be like once these kids have finally moved out.
I’ve always felt like this about my kids. In the first couple of years of their lives, I wasn’t around a lot because of work, so I wonder if maybe I missed some important parental bonding hormones or something? I’ve been around all the time since then, and the feelings have never changed. I kind of brought it up with family when my youngest was 3, and people said it was just a thing I was going through, that it would pass, but it hasn’t. There’s probably something wrong with me.
I guess I just wanted to get that off my chest, and I wonder if anybody else experiences this. If they do, nobody ever says. And of course, I wouldn’t say it publicly either, you’re supposed to love your kids. But what if you don’t?”
“I Couldn’t Ever See Him Becoming A Good Person”
“I can’t speak for my parents, but I can speak for myself when talking about my brother.
My brother is five years older than me, and my parents have been heavily abusive my entire life. I was diagnosed with autism when I was 6, and my parents immediately pulled me from public school and ‘homeschooled’ me. My only interaction with another kid was with my brother. While I shied away and withdrew, my brother acted out, and horribly so.
I think I realized it about a year after I was pulled out of school. My brother had taken me out of the house. I was excited, but we soon met up with what I could only describe as a gang. Now, I know they had gotten my brother at an early age (12). The conversation immediately changed from my brother talking to me about lighthearted topics to a laughing, mocking conversation about blood and gore with the older members he’d met up with. All I could do was watch. I remember thinking that my brother was not a good person, and that I couldn’t ever see him becoming a good person. And I was right.
Half a year later, he was arrested and thrown in juvenile detention for assault. He got out after a few months, as my abusive father is a lawyer, and was back in six months later because police had caught him killing people’s pets. The pattern continued and continued, and when he was 15, he got out and didn’t go back. That was because when he turned 17, his long-term boyfriend had him arrested for repeated assault and abuse. He was tried as an adult and is now in prison.
I think it’s probably the fault of our parents. This was about a year and a half ago. I didn’t turn out like he did, but I’m under the impression that abuse affects people in different ways. I’m not sure why I turned out differently, but his behavior and our parents’ behavior affected me a lot. I still wonder what my brother would’ve been like had he not developed the way he had.”
When The Bad Child Becomes A Parent
“Not me, but my Mum, regarding my sister.
I think, despite the fact my sister is a contentious little madam at the best of times, capable of being nice only when she wants something and becoming vicious & vindictive when she doesn’t get her own way, the defining moment came when my sister had her kid.
She had him young and essentially used him as an accessory to her life. ‘Look at me, I’m amazing, I have a child who is my world!’ type thing. In reality, she couldn’t be bothered with him. She left him with my Mum 90% of the time, and whenever she spent time with him, she was more concerned with playing on her phone or talking to her friends than looking after her child, preferring to let my mum do it.
My mum was disabled, by the way. Very poorly, and in lots of pain.
My mum took to looking after my nephew like her own son, and did a good job of helping him in every way possible; teaching him to talk, walk, good manners, and singing him lullabies and reading with him. All the things my sister should have done, but she preferred to be off partying with whichever man she was sleeping with at the time.
Mum would say regularly how sad she was about the whole thing, how disappointed, how worn out and browbeaten and isolated and abused she felt because of my sister. It didn’t help she was in cahoots with my Mum’s husband, complaining about her behind her back and making her feel unwelcome in her own home.
Of course, she criticized everything my mother did, quite nastily, and would regularly drop my nephew on my Mum whenever Mum had plans, just to ruin them because she knew Mum would always care for an innocent child while she was off stealing money from her and driving while wasted.
There’s a lot more to this. I can’t articulate very well just how poorly behaved my sister is, and I can’t very well ask my Mum now, as she died last month.”