Being Shackled to Unsuitable Parents.

Today I was watching young parents walking past with their young children, and some of the parents were the sort I wouldn’t even want to live close to, much less share a house with. I thought of the children and how awful it must be to be trapped in a house with parents like that, and I wondered whether parents should make a conscious effort to be amenable to their children’s personality types. Or is feeding them and clothing them and not being abusive sufficient discharge of parental responsibilities?

My parents didn’t suit me, you know. By the age of 11 I couldn’t wait for them to go out so I could have the house to myself, and when I finally left home at 19 I was well ready for it. They fed and clothed me and weren’t abusive (well, that’s a moot point where my stepfather was concerned, but he wasn’t physically abusive and my mother was a very nice person.) They just didn’t suit me. And it wasn’t merely the usual teenage rebellion thing. Looking back on it now I realise that they’d never suited me because they hadn’t a clue who I really was.  I don’t suppose they cared, and that’s the problem.