検索キーワード： "コドモのコドモ" 親・成人した子供

He was there. But he wasn't really there. He came home every night. Paid the bills. Put food on the table. And somehow, you still felt like an orphan in your own home. Because when you tried to tell him about your day, his eyes glazed over. When you needed comfort, he offered solutions — or worse, silence. When you cried, he left the room. When you achieved something, he nodded and went back to his phone.

She puts down the phone. The call lasted twelve minutes. Nothing happened—no cruelty, no accusation, nothing she could point to. And yet here she is, standing very still in her kitchen, feeling that slow, familiar deflation. Like something small and essential has been quietly let out of her. She doesn't have a name for what just happened. She only knows it happens every time. If you recognized yourself in that sentence, this book was written for you. Not for the daughters whose mothers were obviously cruel.