I hate that I turned 19 lol, and this resentment I feel has only grown stronger over time. My mom brought me into this world, and from the very beginning, she failed me. It wasn’t just about not being there when I needed support—it was about the fact that she didn’t even give me a chance to have a decent start. That’s a hard pill to swallow.
Antinatalism is a direct response to my reality. I didn’t ask to be born into a world full of suffering, neglect, and endless struggle. If I could have chosen, I’d have opted out of this chaos in a heartbeat.
Life, as I’ve experienced it, feels like a cruel joke. The constant struggle, the relentless uncertainty, and the sheer weight of it all make it hard to see any meaning. We’re talking about a world with climate change, growing inequality, and systemic issues that seem insurmountable. Every day is a reminder of how messed up things are, and it feels like bringing someone new into this is just perpetuating a cycle of suffering.
Antinatalism makes sense when you look at the bigger picture. It’s not just about individual suffering but about the collective burden we all face. Why would anyone want to contribute to this mess by bringing new lives into it? The ethical implications are huge. When you see how many people are struggling just to get by, and how often people are neglected or failed by those who should care for them, it makes you question the point of adding more to this world.
My mom’s failure to provide even the basics of care or stability feels like a direct assault on my ability to have a fair chance at life. It’s more than personal anger..it’s a reflection on the broader question of whether it’s ethical to bring more people into a world that’s so fundamentally flawed.
If life is going to be this hard, and if there’s no guarantee of even the basics of care and support, why would anyone think it’s okay to keep this cycle going? My anger towards my mom is intertwined with a broader frustration with the entire system. I can’t forgive her for this, and I don’t think I ever will. It’s a deep-seated resentment that reflects not just personal disappointment but a profound question about the ethics of creating new life in such a messed up world.
