Bravo to Parents!

I think a lot of times we can mistaken a shallow content for love.
How can we say we're not loved when our parents constantly warn us of tripping paths? Or when those we love speak hard truths to us? How can I listen to the snarls of my demons over the perhaps corrective truth of those caring for me?
I may not always see the positive parts of myself, but perhaps that's because I've somehow become content with living in my own world of self-pity and inside the walls of a heart that I'm allowing to harden. I speak of wanting peace inside myself and yet I create a poor world like that of Mr. David Copperfield  in which I would need an escape from. All this because I want what isn't good for me and I want to give people who see my questionable choices an "excuse" to defend me with.

"She's going through a stage,"
                           "It's just the depression,"

and the like are prime and common examples.
Some parents might be thankful for the excuses of their child's awful influences to those younger. I am, however, fortunate to have parents who take no such relief in such cover ups. Rather, they allow people to be in the knowledge that our family of five isn't perfect and they take more interest in helping our generation with the beatings of the world, our minds, and sometimes even our hearts.