Now imagine with me.
You are a successful working woman with a coveted, well-paying job in the government.
You have a diplomat husband and a cozy apartment.
You have given birth to a daughter who has been the apple of your eye.
You sent her to a high school, where she excelled and was popular with her classmates.
She's 17 years old, and it's time for the child to think about her future.
Suddenly she starts saying things like, “I want to be a jellyfish swimming in the ocean.” Stupid stuff like that.
Refuses to go to cram school, runs out every night, and refuses to tell you what she's been doing.
No matter what you ask her, she always looks at you with a sour face and complains that you don't understand her.
And then suddenly one day, there's a terrorist attack where you live and over 100 people die.
Then a picture of your daughter appears on the TV screen and now she's a terrorist.
This fucking brat destroys your decades of hard work and you and your husband lose your jobs. You are now just the mother of the terrorist girl.
Now you regret having children.