It always feels amazing when you have similar interests with your parents, and it always disheartening when you find out that you don’t. You want to tell them about your latest discoveries, share that excitement that’s boiling inside you, but they just spat. They shrug. They go on with their lives.

So, at some point you realize that you need to show some interest in what they love, what they do as a hobby. Because you want that connection even if it means that you need to something that you don’t fancy. It should be the other way around, but often it’s not.

This was fucking good, John. Thank you!

Freelance Writer. The Weakest Superhero. Saving the world through pop culture, mental health, and true crime. Be my ally:

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