When I was young, my elders told me stories of planting trees. Not for myself but for future generations. Instead they took the land, the wealth, the knowledge and the bits of whatever scraps left behind that made them feel powerful.

Then they turned around and insulted me, belittled me and blamed me for not caring enough about their every wants and fragile emotions. Demanded I work harder while they stood there watching me to criticize my every move. Accused me of selfishness for not following all the awful and outdated advice they constantly forced upon me. Hated me for not following step by step in their traditions that caused so much division and suffering. Bullied me for attempting to express myself freely.

They never got around to planting their trees. They just flicked the cigarette butt and watched the other trees burn.

The elders that left me feeling inspired and comfortable with me being myself are so few and far between that it hurts. It’s hard for me to not feel betrayed by the majority of my elders.

I want to be inspired to do good from people who already do good things. Instead I feel like my empathy for others is being built up out of spite against my elders actions. Their words are so empty and meaningless to me.

I’ve also chosen to not let my future self become a burden on the younger people that follow me. I’ve already chosen my retirement plan. Extreme sports. Wing suit would be fun. I’d easily settle for trying to kick a cop in the nuts.