When I was 11 or 12 years old, I had a conversation with a friend about road safety. She had a habit of crossing the road without checking for approaching cars. My parents had taught me to prioritise my safety by always ensuring that no vehicles were too close or approaching at high speed—essentially, to check whether it was safe to cross.
When I challenged her and reminded her to look before stepping onto the road, she simply shrugged and said, "Why should I? Cars aren’t allowed to hit me; they have to stop."
I was baffled and replied, "But what if they don’t stop for some reason? You could be run over!"
"And?" she asked. "They’d still be in the wrong—it’s illegal for them to hit me!"
I still remember being utterly astonished by this attitude. My friend cared more about who was "right" or "wrong" than the very real risk of injury—or even death. She seemed unconcerned about the possibility of ending up in a wheelchair, as long as she could say it was someone else’s fault.
This conversation stayed with me for years, not just because of how reckless it was but because it made me realise how differently people approach responsibility and consequences. To me, it was obvious that my own safety was my responsibility first and foremost, regardless of the rules that should protect me. Yet, to her, the idea of accountability seemed secondary to the principle that drivers were legally obligated to stop.
Looking back, I wonder how much of this mindset is shared by others—people who prioritise being "in the right" over making choices that keep them safe.
The same principle applies to unplanned pregnancy. Far too often, people in this situation focus more on blaming the other person than on taking responsibility for their own actions. They fail to acknowledge that they either didn’t do enough—or perhaps did nothing at all—to prevent the situation, instead leaving all the responsibility to the other party.
Men blame women: "She said she was on the pill, so it’s not my fault!"—without accepting that if they truly didn’t want a baby, they should have taken every possible precaution themselves, regardless of what their partner claimed. Likewise, women blame men: "He didn’t want to use a condom, so it’s his fault!"—without recognising that his refusal to use protection didn’t prevent her from taking responsibility herself, whether by using contraception, getting an IUD, or even taking the morning-after pill if it was a one-time encounter.
A man who becomes a father because he didn’t use protection is no wiser than a pedestrian who ends up in a wheelchair because they won't check whether it was safe to cross the road—only to then wheel himself around demanding sympathy and justice from the driver who hit him.
Similarly, women who enter relationships with these "poor men who have suffered injustice at the hands of their lying ex" should pause and reflect. They are with a man who refuses to take responsibility for his own choices and instead shifts the blame onto others. And sooner or later, it will be their turn. When life presents its next challenge, they will be the one at fault—because a person who avoids accountability once will do it again.
Read more similar stories:
It is not possible to "have an accident baby" or "become a parent unplanned". No baby can be born without a mum choosing to have a baby.
- Why Co-parenting is always full of conflicts and never friendly or business like, as we imagined at the beginning.
- Why is the mother of his child so high in conflict?
- My partner's family and friends are talking about the woman with whom he has children. Why do they have to? Am I disrespected by them?
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