u/Vivid-Okra-4447

I grew up with what I'd consider abusive parents. A lot of it revolved around extreme pressure around studying, grades, and academic achievement. There was very little emotional support, a lot of criticism, and the feeling that my worth was tied to performance.

What I don't understand is how some parents think there won't be consequences for treating their children like that.

As an adult, I keep my relationship with them fairly transactional. I'll speak to them, but mostly when they want something or when I need practical help. I don't feel particularly close to them, and I certainly don't feel any obligation to become their future carer. If they expected a loving, supportive relationship later in life, that was undermined by how they treated me growing up.

I'm curious whether anyone else from a similar background feels the same way. Did harsh or controlling parenting affect how close you are to your parents as an adult? Do your parents understand why the relationship is distant, or do they seem surprised by it?

Interested to hear other people's experiences.

any lawyers here? too cheap to pay for one

In the UK, it often seems to me that the people with the lowest incomes, least education, and weakest career prospects are also the ones who end up having the most children. For example, you might see a single parent on benefits with several children, while many graduates, professionals, or higher earners either have one child, delay having children until later in life, or remain childfree altogether.

Whenever I mention this observation, people seem to react very negatively, as if I'm insulting poor people or saying they shouldn't have children. That's not necessarily what I'm saying. I'm simply questioning why there appears to be an inverse relationship between educational/financial success and family size in many cases.

My guess is that some people interpret the observation as a moral judgement rather than a factual one. Others may feel it risks stereotyping people or ignores the many social, cultural, religious, and economic factors that influence family size.

Why do you think this topic generates such strong pushback? Is it because the observation itself is wrong, because people disagree with the conclusions often drawn from it, or because discussions about class, poverty and parenting are especially sensitive in the UK?

Interested to hear different perspectives.

This is something I've never really understood.

If someone buys a car they can't afford, takes on debt they can't repay, or makes other major financial commitments without the means to support them, society generally thinks it's reasonable to question that decision.

But when it comes to having children, it often feels like any discussion of whether someone can realistically afford them is treated as taboo or cruel.

For example, if someone has several children, no job, and relies heavily on benefits, why is it considered unacceptable to ask whether that was a responsible decision?

To be clear, I'm not arguing that children should go without support, or that people on low incomes should be treated badly. Children aren't responsible for the circumstances they're born into.

What I'm trying to understand is:

• Why is having children viewed differently from other major life decisions with financial consequences?
• Is it because people see having children as a fundamental human right?
• Is it because many people's financial situations change unexpectedly after having children?
• Or is it because criticisms often end up targeting poor people more than wealthier people?

I'm genuinely interested in the reasoning rather than looking for an argument. How do people think about this?

Growing up, my dad's attitude often felt like "what can you do for me?" rather than much concern for my wellbeing. Whether that's where I got it from or not, I've realised I often think in a similar way about other people.

When I think about money, promotions, holidays, nice hotels, spa days, a comfortable home, or early retirement, I want those things for myself. If I had a child, I struggle to see myself willingly sacrificing a large part of my lifestyle for them. The idea of giving up things I enjoy so someone else can benefit doesn't come naturally to me.

It's not that I want anyone to suffer. I just generally care far more about my own quality of life than improving someone else's.

A lot of people talk about how becoming a parent made them put someone else's needs first, and that they would do anything for their children. I honestly can't relate to that feeling at all.

Has anyone else felt this way? Is it something that changes with age, relationships, or parenthood, or are some people simply more self-focused by nature?

I'd be interested to hear from people who were similar when they were younger but later changed, or from those who never did.

I'm 26 and have a net worth of around £140k.

Roughly £40k was built through my own work, saving and investing, while £100k came from a gift from my parents after they sold their business.

I know some people will say that's mostly luck, and I don't disagree. I was fortunate to be born into a family that was able to help me financially. At the same time, my parents took risks, ran a business for years, and created that wealth in the first place.

This got me wondering what people in the UK actually consider a "success story."

If someone comes from an ordinary background, studies, gets a professional job, saves diligently, receives support from family, and reaches a six-figure net worth in their mid-20s, does that count as success? Or does a success story only count if everything was self-made?

My view is that Britain has always been a mix of:

• Hard work
• Family support
• Good decisions
• Luck

Very few people get to a strong financial position through just one of those.

Interested to hear people's thoughts.

Genuine question.

I see a lot of people saying you should never borrow money for holidays, shopping, experiences, designer items, etc., and should only use debt for things like a house.

But if life is short and tomorrow isn't guaranteed, what's actually wrong with borrowing to enjoy life now?

For example:

• Taking out a personal loan for a big holiday.
• Using credit cards to fund travelling.
• Financing luxury purchases.
• Buying experiences while you're young rather than waiting until you're old.

I understand the maths argument that you'll pay interest, but lots of people seem to act as if it's morally wrong rather than just financially inefficient.

Isn't there an argument that:

• You only live once.
• You're healthiest when you're young.
• Experiences today may be worth more than experiences in 30 years.
• You could die before getting the chance to enjoy the money you've saved.

At what point does "being responsible" become unnecessarily delaying gratification?

Interested in hearing both sides, especially from people who have either:

• Borrowed for experiences and don't regret it, or
• Regret not enjoying life more when they were younger.

When people talk about the UK's cost-of-living crisis, I sometimes wonder whether they're describing something new or whether they're describing problems that certain groups have faced for years.

Low-income households, many disabled people unable to work, carers, long-term unemployed people, and those reliant on benefits were often struggling long before inflation surged and energy prices increased.

That's not to say rising prices haven't made things worse. Clearly they have. But for some people, life was already a constant battle to cover rent, bills, food, and unexpected expenses. The recent crisis may have broadened the problem, but it didn't create hardship from scratch.

Sometimes it feels as though society only started paying attention once people on average or above-average incomes felt the squeeze. Meanwhile, there were people facing impossible financial choices years earlier who received far less attention.

Does anyone else think that, for some groups, the "cost-of-living crisis" is really an intensification of problems that have existed for a long time rather than an entirely new phenomenon?

I'm looking for genuine answers rather than a debate about whether I deserve what I have.

I'm 26 and have built up substantial savings through working, living frugally, and saving consistently. I also received a significant inheritance. I fully acknowledge that the inheritance involved luck and that I'm not a self-made millionaire.

What I find frustrating is that social media is full of people showing off luxury holidays, designer clothes, expensive cars, houses, and other signs of wealth, yet if an ordinary person talks about having a healthy savings balance or receiving an inheritance, the reaction often seems much more negative.

I'm not looking to put anyone down or claim I'm better than others. Sometimes I'm just proud that I've managed to build financial security and would like to talk about it with people who are interested in personal finance rather than immediately responding with "you were just lucky" or "stop bragging."

Are there any subreddits or online communities where discussing savings milestones, inheritance, net worth, investing progress, or financial goals is actually welcomed?

For example:

• Reaching £40k, £100k, or other savings milestones
• Receiving an inheritance
• Building net worth at a relatively young age
• Financial independence goals
• Investing and wealth-building discussions

Has anyone found communities where these conversations are encouraged rather than resented?

Thanks.

I'm autistic, and one thing I've never really understood is the level of hostility some people have towards us.

For example, I've been told that:

• I'm faking autism.
• Extra time in exams is "cheating".
• I don't deserve my degree because I had accommodations.
• I should just "get over it" instead of asking for reasonable adjustments at work.
• Employers shouldn't have to accommodate autistic people.
• Society shouldn't spend extra time or money helping autistic people.
• If I struggle to hold down jobs, that's my fault and I deserve whatever happens.
• I've even seen comments online suggesting disabled people should just stay at home or disappear from society.

What confuses me is that nobody chooses to be autistic. If someone has poor eyesight, we don't accuse them of cheating for wearing glasses. If someone uses a wheelchair, we don't say they should just "try harder" to use stairs. Yet some people seem to view autism accommodations very differently.

I'm genuinely curious about the psychology behind it.

Is it because autism is often an invisible disability, so people assume we're making it up? Is it resentment about perceived "special treatment"? Lack of understanding? Something else?

Have other autistic people experienced this kind of reaction, either online or in real life?

I'd be interested to hear your experiences and theories.

I'm autistic, and one thing I've struggled to understand is why discussions about autism can sometimes bring out such negative reactions from people.

When I talk about lack of adjustments at work, discrimination, masking, burnout, or difficulties I've experienced because of autism, there are often people who respond as if autistic people are a burden, a liability, or are asking for special treatment.

I can at least understand some of that in workplaces. Employers may worry about productivity, costs, communication issues, legal obligations, or managing different needs within a team.

What I don't understand is the hostility outside of work.

Why do some people seem annoyed by autistic people simply existing, needing accommodations, having different social skills, or talking openly about their experiences? Why is there sometimes an assumption that autistic people are making excuses, being difficult, or seeking attention?

I've met plenty of kind and supportive people, both autistic and non-autistic. But I've also encountered people who seem to have a real dislike of autistic people despite never having been mistreated by one.

Is it discomfort with people who are different? Lack of understanding? Media stereotypes? Resentment towards accommodations? Something else?

Interested to hear people's thoughts, especially from both autistic and non-autistic perspectives.

I've noticed something that I genuinely don't understand.

Why do some people feel entitled to other people's resources, time, money, connections, knowledge, or opportunities, and then get angry when they don't receive them?

Personally, I'm usually happy to help people if we have a reciprocal relationship, if they've helped me in the past, if we at work together, if they have authority over me. That's normal. Relationships involve give and take.

What confuses me is when someone I barely know starts asking for things and then seems resentful if I say no.

For example, I've seen people expect referrals, professional advice, introductions, money, favours, study materials, or access to someone's network simply because they asked. If the answer is no, they act as though they've been wronged.

My view is that nobody is automatically entitled to another person's resources. If someone has worked hard to build a career, network, savings, or expertise, why should they be obligated to share it with people they have little or no relationship with?

I'm curious whether this is a difference in values, expectations, or social norms.

Do some people genuinely believe that resources should be shared more freely, whereas others see them as something that should be reserved for people who have earned trust, reciprocated in the past, or are genuinely important to them?

Has anyone else experienced people becoming angry or offended after being told no, even when they had no real claim to what they were asking for in the first place?

I've been having a frustrating discussion with some people online and I'm struggling to understand their perspective.

I'm autistic and work in consulting. A common piece of advice I receive is "just disclose your autism and ask for accommodations." The problem is that I have disclosed in the past, and it did not work out well for me. I ended up losing the job. We went through the legal process and eventually received a settlement, but I didn't get the job back.

When I explain this, some people still insist that disclosure is "the right thing to do" and that I should keep disclosing regardless of the outcome.

What confuses me even more is that some of the same people then suggest that if work isn't accommodating enough, I should rely on benefits such as PIP instead.

I don't understand this logic.

I have a well-paid job. It gives me financial independence, career progression, savings, investments, and a standard of living that I couldn't achieve on benefits. I don't require day-to-day care, and when I applied for PIP I wasn't considered eligible. Even if I were eligible, I don't particularly like the idea of basing my long-term financial security on benefits that could be changed by future governments.

I feel like some people are viewing disclosure as a moral issue, whereas I view it as a personal risk-benefit decision. If disclosing has already had negative consequences for me in the past, why is it unreasonable for me to be cautious about doing it again?

To be clear, I'm not saying that nobody should disclose. If disclosure has helped you obtain adjustments and thrive at work, that's great. I'm just not convinced that it's the right choice for every autistic person in every workplace.

Has anyone else found that some people become quite pushy about disclosure, even after you've explained that it hasn't worked for you personally? I'd be interested to hear other perspectives.

I've always been curious about how some people on lower incomes manage their finances and would be interested in hearing others' experiences. I'm asking here because autism can sometimes affect earning potential, employment opportunities, or career progression, so I imagine quite a few people in this community have experience of living on a tighter budget.

For example, I know someone who grew up on a council estate and comes from a relatively low-income family background, yet he always seems to have the latest Nike trainers, eats out fairly regularly, pays for subscriptions like Spotify and Netflix, and occasionally travels to the Caribbean to visit family.

I'm genuinely not criticising or judging him. If anything, I'm impressed that he's able to enjoy those things, and I'm curious about how people make it work financially.

Is it usually a combination of things such as:

• Prioritising spending differently?
• Living with family and therefore having lower housing costs?
• Using credit or buy-now-pay-later services?
• Financial help from relatives?
• Choosing to spend a larger proportion of income on hobbies, clothes, travel, or leisure?
• People making incorrect assumptions about how much someone earns based on their background?

I grew up with the assumption that when money is tight, things like brand-name trainers, subscriptions, restaurant meals, and flights are usually the first things to be cut. However, I've met quite a few people who don't appear to have particularly high incomes yet still seem able to enjoy these things.

For those of you who have lived on a low income, how did you manage it? Were there sacrifices elsewhere that outsiders didn't see, or do people often overestimate the cost of these lifestyle items?

I'd be interested to hear people's experiences and perspectives.

I genuinely don't understand how being two-faced doesn't exhaust some people.

For example, you'll see two coworkers who absolutely cannot stand each other. They make personal digs behind each other's backs, complain about each other constantly, and say some pretty unpleasant things in private. Yet the next day they're acting like best friends, going for coffee together, liking each other's social media posts, and even socialising outside of work.

What's the point?

I understand being civil and professional with someone you don't like. Most adults have to do that at some point. But actively pretending to be close friends with someone you apparently dislike seems like a huge amount of effort.

Is it just conflict avoidance? Networking? Wanting to keep group harmony? Or do some people simply separate what they genuinely think from how they behave socially?

Maybe I'm being naive, but I'd rather either be friendly with someone because I actually like them, or keep things polite and distant if I don't.

Does anyone else find this confusing, or is there something I'm missing? 🤔

This is something I've never really understood. Whenever someone says they're a doctor or nurse, a lot of people seem to automatically assume they're compassionate, selfless, and caring.

But why?

Surely, like any other profession, people go into medicine and healthcare for a wide range of reasons:

• Job security
• Good salary
• Social status and prestige
• Intellectual interest
• Family expectations
• A desire to help people
• A mixture of all of the above

I'm not saying doctors and nurses are bad people. Obviously many are genuinely caring and go above and beyond for patients. But I don't understand why society often treats them as if caring is their defining personality trait.

I've met healthcare workers who were incredibly kind, and I've met some who were arrogant, rude, dismissive, or clearly burned out. They're human beings like everyone else.

If someone becomes a corporate lawyer, accountant, engineer, or investment banker, most people don't automatically assume they're doing it to help others. Yet when someone becomes a doctor or nurse, many people seem reluctant to acknowledge that career stability, status, income, or achievement may also have played a role in their decision.

Am I missing something? Why do people so often equate working in healthcare with being a morally better or kinder person, rather than simply viewing it as a profession that attracts a mix of personalities and motivations?

I genuinely don't understand this. Emotions like envy, jealousy, resentment, anger, pride, etc. are all normal human emotions. Yet it seems that if you openly admit to envy, people immediately label you as insecure, narcissistic, or a bad person.

For example, I once told a friend that I envied a peer who inherited millions from his family's estate. I wasn't saying he didn't deserve it, that it should be taken away from him, or that I was entitled to his lifestyle. I was simply acknowledging a feeling:

>"If I'm working full-time during a cost-of-living crisis and someone else receives enough money to never worry about housing or bills again, of course part of me envies that."

Apparently that made me "insecure" and "narcissistic."

But why?

I don't think envy necessarily implies entitlement. To me there's a difference between:

• "I wish I had what he has."
• "He shouldn't have what he has and should give it to me."

The first seems like a normal human reaction. The second is entitlement.

If someone is more attractive, wealthier, healthier, has a better family, inherits money, gets into a top university, or lands a dream job, isn't it fairly normal to occasionally feel envious? As long as you don't mistreat them because of it, what's wrong with honestly acknowledging the feeling?

Do people genuinely not experience envy, or do they just think it's socially unacceptable to admit it?

1. I know a NT guy, a fairly successful manager
2. He tells us he hates minorities, disabled ppl all the time ( I am a white woman who has autism, he doesn't know)
3. Yet when its DEI day at work, or charity day, he's always front and centre posting abt it online
4. His boss is a non-white woman who has ADHD so he joined the ND forum at work just to hang with her and brownose her
5. In private he votes Reform and jokes abt ppl like her behind her back with ppl who identify as white supremacists

How does he not feel tired doing all this shit? I am not asking him to racially abuse people at work etc. but why go the extra effort to volunteer on DEI days, hang out in the ND club with his non-white boss etc. ?

I understand the humanitarian argument for accepting refugees, especially people fleeing war or persecution.

What I struggle with is the idea that every refugee admission is automatically a net benefit to the receiving country.

If someone comes here, works, pays taxes, learns English, follows the law and becomes part of the community, I can see the argument very clearly.

But what is the benefit to the UK of admitting people who are unlikely to work for long periods, require substantial public support, or have serious criminal or security concerns?.

What should the objective of refugee policy be from the receiving country’s perspective?

If the answer is purely humanitarian — “we accept a cost because protecting people from persecution is morally worthwhile” — then fair enough. That is at least a coherent argument.

But if people claim refugee intake is also economically or socially beneficial to Britain, surely we should be able to ask under what circumstances that is actually true.

For example, shouldn't policy distinguish between:

• someone who is likely to work, integrate and become self-supporting;
• someone who temporarily needs substantial support but can eventually become independent;
• someone who is unlikely ever to support themselves; and
• someone who genuinely presents a serious security or criminal risk?

Those aren't morally or economically identical situations.

I don't think asking “who benefits, what does it cost, and what standards should apply?” is the same thing as saying Britain should accept no refugees.

If refugee policy is partly humanitarian, then perhaps we should just say openly that there will sometimes be a financial cost to the UK and argue that the humanitarian benefit justifies it.

But pretending every admission must automatically be economically beneficial seems just as simplistic as pretending every refugee is a burden.

I’m curious whether anyone else has encountered this dynamic.

I had a former friend from a much poorer country, and over time I felt that almost anything positive I said about my life in the UK became a comparison.

If I mentioned London doing well economically or having good opportunities, she would immediately tell me how well her country was doing too. If I talked about my career or things I could afford, the conversation would often turn to how unfair it was that she didn’t have the same things.

Eventually she basically asked why I should be able to enjoy nice things while people like her had to experience poverty.

I understand where some of that anger comes from. The country you are born in massively affects your opportunities, wages and standard of living. Global inequality is real, and two equally hardworking people can end up with completely different lives because of circumstances outside their control.

But I struggle with the point where anger at inequality turns into resentment towards individual people who happen to be better off.

We had completed similar degrees, but I managed to secure a professional job in the UK and she didn’t. She was offered work as a carer that could have allowed her to remain here, but she chose not to take it and later had to return home. She nevertheless talked about how unfair it was that I had obtained the sort of career she wanted.

She also frequently criticised Britain for its historical and present-day impact on poorer countries while simultaneously wanting to stay here and eventually bring family members over. Those things aren't necessarily contradictory — you can strongly criticise a country and still believe life there offers better opportunities — but the combination with the constant personal comparisons made the friendship increasingly uncomfortable.

My view is that inequality can be unfair without making the person on the better side of it personally guilty.

If somebody earns more than me, owns a nicer house or happened to be born somewhere wealthier, my first reaction isn't that they shouldn't be allowed to enjoy it simply because I don't have the same thing.

Have other people experienced this kind of resentment across large differences in nationality, wealth or opportunity? And where do you think legitimate criticism of global inequality ends and personal resentment begins?