My Child Doesn’t Like Me: And I’m Heartbroken Over it.
I don’t know what to do. I’m utterly and completely lost.
My child doesn’t like me. I’m convinced. It’s not something I’ve done, of course. All I’ve ever done is try to raise her to be a respectable human being. Who cares about others as well as herself, who’s smart, kind, compassionate, and maybe a little bit of a smarty pants.
Oh, I also provide a roof over her head, food on the table, or her dresser, her bed, her floor; clothes on her back, legs, and head, shoes on her feet. A tv in her room, an IPad to draw on, a switch to ignore and let collect dust, and an iPhone to ignore me from. Oh, and yes I pay the bills. But all those things? Oh, those things are nothing. Those are things I’m required to do. I’m required to finance the life of an individual who has no regard for me and doesn’t like me.
No, she did not ask to be here. And yes, there may be a law or two somewhere that requires me to support her well-being until she reaches a certain age, but there’s no law that says I’m required to provide an iPhone. Or an iPad. Or a switch. Or skittles (the red pack because I’ve been advised that they’re the best kind). No, it doesn’t exist, and if you can find such a law? Please feel free to reach out to me, I’ll be glad to give it a look over, and have no problem…
