To be succinct and private… My incubator worked me for weeks to build rapport and trust with me in my younger days, to get me to tell her a something that she would ultimately, and immediately use and weaponize against me and others.
This wasnt the first time I tried to have a relationship with her, but it did finally open my eyes and become the last. In the many many decades since, I’ve not so much as acknowledge her existence when crossing paths.
Metaphorically speaking, but putting the boot down on the neck that is the form of my individuality. They both did a terrible job in preparing me for life. Their idea of readying you for life is going on tireless banters about themselves and maybe a couple lessons dropped in between. There’s just no recovery when parents just do not prepare for you for life, leaving you into a life full of struggle and improvision.
Facts, my parents never accepted who I am and wanted me to be another racist robot like them, they were flabbergasted when I didn’t return home after losing my first big job. I had met the woman who became my wife, she and life taught me way more than they ever did, the only thing my parents did right and ultimately hated me for was buying me a set of science encyclopedias which allowed me to find my passion for science.
My mother got mad when she found my friend teaching me to do my own laundry, said we’d break the washing machine. Later, I shrunk my favorite tshirts doing laundry when I got an apt.