I hope my grandchildren are disappointed in me.

That'd be great. If society's tolerance for aggression; its taste for involuntary control of the individual by the collective, has waned to such an extent that in hindsight I'm reviled as a willing participant and collaborator.
That would be fantastic.

The fact I registered the birth of my children, carried a driver's license when driving my registered car; all the ways I obeyed, co-operated, compromised.
I hope their respect for personal autonomy and commitment to consent in every relationship is so deep that I'm reduced to a shameful caricature of a monster, from a regretful chapter of our family's past.

That'd make me really happy.

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