Increasingly it seems like every ugly feeling that’s voiced is now regarded as brave self-disclosure; it’s honesty at any cost.

This year news outlets composed several stories about the women who regret having children. These articles are about the mothers feeling remorse, you understand, not the children who are subject to their rejection. The victim spectrum is so vast it now extends all the way to “perpetrator.”

Marie Claire delved into the nitty-gritty with the title: “Inside the Growing Movement of Women Who Wish They’d Never Had Kids.” The article is a confessional of anonymous women who, given the chance, would reverse their decisions. One mom mused about her compromised career: “I wonder if my accomplishments would be more spectacular.”

The Guardian and Vice covered similar stories about remorseful moms who essentially channelled their inner Betty Friedan, wondering if there’s more to this family life nonsense.

There’s a Facebook page for the cold-hearted and the like-minded: “I Regret Motherhood.”

And no movement is complete unless a celebrity admits her offspring is a pint-sized drag and a total buzzkill, so singer Adele confessed to Vanity Fair, “I love my son more than anything, but on a daily basis, if I have a minute or two, I wish I could do whatever the f — k I wanted, whenever I want. Every single day I feel like that.”

For those of us who have a healthy regard for conscience and guilt, having a passing regret is not the end of the world. It becomes a problem when it’s entertained, and in this case, it’s clear that these women are seeking out a sisterhood of regret. By splashing their defective motherly instincts all over the news, they’re hoping to feel better about themselves.

I want to believe some of these mothers are troubled by a psychological impediment that prevents them from loving fully. I want to believe they were raised in a home without the fullness of motherly affection and came away short-changed.

However, the reality is that the human potential for selfishness is vast, ugly, and limitless. Selfishness doesn’t discriminate either. Mothers, just like fathers, can be cold, resentful parents.

As we know, one of the best aspects of motherhood is its selflessness. For most of us, it comes naturally, and flows from an immediate role reversal: we flip from (generally) taking to (generally) giving. What’s more, it’s immediate. The relationship between a mother and a newborn is spectacular, precisely because it doesn’t require reciprocity; the baby’s sheer existence is his worth. Moreover, most mothers discover that giving turns out to be more satisfying than taking. It’s a natural process that can only be impeded by selfishness.

I’ve no interest in mothers asking for public absolution and solidarity for their crummy feelings. There’s a reason why therapists agree to confidentiality and a reason why there’s a screen blocking a priest from a confessor. Not every incapacity, weakness and shortcoming needs to see sunlight.

To think any woman would look at her child and lament a bigger career is tragic. And even if these moms aren’t to blame for some defect in their upbringings, I wish they’d keep their regrets quietly to themselves, in the darkest shadows, and buried deep. Get private help.

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No one deserves sympathy for attempting to normalize their cold heart. All my sympathy is for the kids whose mothers regret them — in other words, all my pity is for the actual victims in these stories.