If you had asked me two years ago what I thought about kids, I would have given you a disgusted look and go on and on about how I hate them!
It is not before this year that I realized what caused that unexplained hate.
I hated kids because... well, I love them.
This idea that I will never have kids of my own just pushed me towards this hate, like some sort of way to protect me from being hurt one day.
You can talk to me for days about adopting or surrogates or any alternative to have children, but for me, nothing can be compared to having a little half-you half-your-significant-other running around the house.
If this was even possible, I would have never considered not having kids. But since it is not and probably never will be, being a father is no priority for me. Even adopting is not something I am keen on.
It is not that I am not able to love a kid that is not mine.
This summer like last summer, I will be working at a summer camp for kids. However, these kids are very... special. They all come from rich families and are very spoiled.
Now this can sometimes be annoying like when you ask them to make their beds and they tell you about how their maid always do that for them back at home, or when they start unpacking their Ralph Lauren polos and Ray Bans and start showing them to their friends. (I am talking about 6-year olds here)
And it can sometimes be pretty sad. Like they say, money is the root of all problems: absent parents, divorces, etc. Last year, a kid has been picked up by his cook after he hadn't talked to his parents for a week.
But kids are kids. They have this magical way of seing the world and are adorably naive. Their energy just makes me happy and their imagination will never stop surprising me. They can have fun doing anything and never get bored.
Yes, I love kids and I don't know if going back to hating them would be more simple for me.
It is not before this year that I realized what caused that unexplained hate.
I hated kids because... well, I love them.
This idea that I will never have kids of my own just pushed me towards this hate, like some sort of way to protect me from being hurt one day.
You can talk to me for days about adopting or surrogates or any alternative to have children, but for me, nothing can be compared to having a little half-you half-your-significant-other running around the house.
If this was even possible, I would have never considered not having kids. But since it is not and probably never will be, being a father is no priority for me. Even adopting is not something I am keen on.
It is not that I am not able to love a kid that is not mine.
This summer like last summer, I will be working at a summer camp for kids. However, these kids are very... special. They all come from rich families and are very spoiled.
Now this can sometimes be annoying like when you ask them to make their beds and they tell you about how their maid always do that for them back at home, or when they start unpacking their Ralph Lauren polos and Ray Bans and start showing them to their friends. (I am talking about 6-year olds here)
And it can sometimes be pretty sad. Like they say, money is the root of all problems: absent parents, divorces, etc. Last year, a kid has been picked up by his cook after he hadn't talked to his parents for a week.
But kids are kids. They have this magical way of seing the world and are adorably naive. Their energy just makes me happy and their imagination will never stop surprising me. They can have fun doing anything and never get bored.
Yes, I love kids and I don't know if going back to hating them would be more simple for me.
