The Matt Walsh Show - Ep. 1829 - It’s Time To Mansplain Parenting To TikTok Moms Who Resent Their Own Kids

Episode Date: August 26, 2026

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The Lindsay Clancy case has brought the dark side of TikTok to the forefront. As it turns out, the dark side of TikTok is just TikTok. There is no light side, no good side, at least not one significant or counterbalancing enough that it should dissuade us from launching the entire platform and most of the people who use it directly into the sun. And it isn't just that platform. The case has shown the dark side of the culture more broadly. And there are those who would argue that the culture too, and many of the people in it belong on the same one-way flag. into the sun. Over the last few weeks, we've said a lot about Clancy's fan club, a group of women, all as repulsive on the inside as they are on the outside, and unanimously deserving of having their custody rights and their voting rights rescinded. These goblins have come forward, loudly and proudly, to outright defend a murderer who brutally slaughtered all three of her children. In the process, they have unmistakably demonstrated that they, like their hero, have roughly the intelligence and moral reasoning of Komodo dragons. And I choose that comparison intentionally, by the way. Young Komodo dragons have to spend the first few years of their

lives hiding high up in the trees so they aren't killed and eaten by older Komodo dragons, to include especially their own mothers. Now, I found that it's a very bad idea to use any species of lizard, least of all this species, as a parenting model, and yet that's exactly what feminists are doing now and have been doing, in fact, for many decades. We've directed plenty of richly deserved scorn at the women who've invented outlandish conspiracy theories around the case, often pinning the blame on the husband, who is in reality the primary living victim of this crime, far more troubling are the women who defend Clancy, not because they think she didn't do it, but because they know she did. They understand her, they say. They relate to her. By their own

admission, that means they loathe and resent their own children and have considered or would consider murder as a potential remedy. That's the only thing a mother can mean when she says that she sees herself in a woman who systematically executed her family. There have been at least a few moments that almost rise to unintentional humor in the middle of this profoundly unsettling saga.

This G.B. News clip went viral yesterday. The female commentator is thrown into paroxysms of rage at her male colleague for daring to criticize a child killer, God forbid. Watch. They should be commended because they did. I've had it with you. Oh my God. And you're commended. They didn't kill their children.

She's a murderer. I can't. Okay. Now the star of that clip is obviously the woman on camera, boiling, seething, nearly volcanic. But don't forget the assist from the female anchor off camera who we don't see, who insists that we should have empathy for what she went through. Talking about Lindsay Clancy. Well, the thing that Clancy went through, just.

Just to be clear, is the slaughter of her children carried out by her own hands. I don't know if the women in that clip have kids, but if they do, I grieve for those children and worry for them. But beyond this especially loathsome group of Lindsay Clancy groupies, there has been a deluge of videos, some recent, some not, from female influencers of every size in both BMI and follower count, who spend their ample free time bitterly complaining about their children online. And this is a thriving genre. And the overlap between Clancy's defenders and the fans of this content is, we can assume, roughly 100%. And it works like this. The influencer posts her complaints on TikTok so that other women, also bitter, also with too much free time, can watch and validate her. Except they're not really validating her. They're

validating themselves through her. The whole thing is a kind of orgy of self-pity. The comments say stuff like, you're so brave and thank you for your honesty. But those are affirmations that the commenters mean more for themselves. The influencer takes it as encouragement and posts more. The echo chamber grows ever louder. The whimpering and whining rises and swells and the pity party runs on forever, a perpetual motion machine fueled by bitching. There's a lot of content. And in a moment, we'll play a mercifully brief sample and then discuss it. But the first thing to say before we watch any of it is the thing that shouldn't need to be said at all, which is that even if you hate motherhood and hate your children and hate the world and

everybody in it, that still does not excuse murdering your family. Just for the record. Now, until the last couple of weeks, even in my most cynical moments, I would not have thought it necessary to clarify that there is no valid excuse for methodically strangling your children to death? Apparently, I was not nearly cynical enough, which is a depressing fact all on its own. And with that said, here it is. Watch. Lindsay, Clancy is all of us somehow. Just one slip on the banana peel. And it could have been any of us. Being a see how mom is doing a million things before 10 o'clock of the morning and looking around and feeling like you've done nothing. It's picking up the same things over and over again. It's having the same conversations. I am stuck in Stainport Walls 24-7. It's exhausting.

I generally feel like I have no purpose in mind. I'm just so tired of the need and the want and the questions and the snacks and wiping asses. Like honest to God, them needing to eat every single day is really killing me. I'm completely overwhelmed trying to take care of the kids. I'm drowning every day. I feel guilty that I'm spending my family's money and not making any. I feel like I spend way too much. She wrote that, right?

Today has been literally so hard. I'm so touched out. And I know he just had surgery, but like I just want my own space. Think about the damage that we do. Because I was going to, but I was doing it with you. Now, keep of mind, this is not a phenomenon confined to TikTok or only to women. Parents openly hating their children is something of a trend and being more and more normalized, although it's not an entirely recent trend.

Plenty of adults today know the concept very well from their own childhoods. Time magazine recently published a lengthy essay about the, quote, parents who regret having children. And then Canada's state media organ, the CBC, followed with its own report a few months later, as did BuzzFeed, a Facebook group for parents who regret having children has tens of thousands of members. The regretful parents subreddit has hundreds of thousands of active users and 70,000 weekly visitors. We've covered this forum before a couple of years ago. It is perhaps as a piece last week in Futurism dubbed it the darkest place on the internet.

And here's a representative sample picked basically at random. Somebody posted this yesterday or two days ago. title, I hate being a mother. And I'm not going to read the entire thing, but this woman echoes many of the sentiments of those moms on TikTok and all the Lindsay Clancy fans. She hates being a mother. She hates being home with her kids.

She hates, quote, everyone. She especially hates her husband now, she says, and wants to leave. Therapy, she reports, has been no help. These are two persistent themes on this forum, hating the husband and therapy not working. Other posts are even more depressed. One woman brags that she just gave up custody of her five-year-old, her five-year-old son and is so relieved that she's finally, quote, free.

Another describes her life with a seven-year-old son and the fairly run-of-the-mill challenges she's faced with him. He's impatient. He asks for snacks. He yells when he doesn't get his way sometimes. And she says that it's hell on earth and that she hates her life and resents her son. And she hates parenting this boy, quote, more than anything. These are just a few posts from this week, and I chose the more cheerful varieties. It gets a lot worse.

The point is that this kind of noxious material is all over the place these days, which means that parents who harbor these dark feelings have no shortage of outlets. They have no scarcity of pots to stew in, where they can join each other in their shared hatreds and resentments and persecution complexes. They marinate like chicken breasts in Ziploc bags in the fridge, soaking in the spite and venom, which they then direct toward their families. The cultural effect of all this stuff is horrendous. Young people encounter this content and become as demoralized and hopeless as the people posting it want them to be. Marriage rates continue to plummet as a result. And on a personal level, the effect is cataclysmic, even potentially fatal. I would bet every dollar in my possession that Lindsay Clancy spent plenty of time on these Reddit forums or forums like them and watched countless I hate motherhood type videos. This spectacle does not merely describe the misery these people are feeling. It encourages it and spreads it like a virus.

Now, if I were inclined to be sympathetic to some of these people, and I'm not really, but if I were, you know, they would forfeiting. that sympathy the moment they publish their complaints online. Now, we'll get to what to do with your resentment toward your children in a moment. But the first thing you should know is this. Don't talk about it in public. The first thing you should do with your resentment is not talk about it in public, especially not in a forum that puts your feelings on the permanent record immortalized so that anyone, including your children, sooner than you might think, can read them. If you're struggling, you need to understand this fact. No stranger on the internet can help you. Okay, even if your struggle is real, which it often isn't, even if your feelings are justified, which they often aren't, a stranger

watching your video can do nothing for you. They can leave supportive comments, I guess, but supportive comments on the internet are an emotional band-aid at best. Worse, actually. They're more like a prescription painkiller whose effect fades as fast as it becomes addictive. You'll need ever more comments and encouraging emojis, and none of it will ever be enough. And meanwhile, by offering your psychological state for public discussion, you've invited the mean and rude comments too. And an infamous quirk of human nature is that the rude ones land about a hundred times harder than the supportive ones. And that leaves you more desperate for reassurance, which invites even rude or feedback. And before you know it, you're being clipped and featured on podcasts by notorious

right-wing bullies like me. Now, this kind of stuff, the public vomiting of your personal anxieties and grievances, is in effect a sort of emotional exhibitionism. You know, it's not so different from some weird nudist traipsing around in public with his grotesque and malformed body on full display, various parts of himself dangling and flopping in the breeze. So I will say to you what I would say to him, which is keep it to yourself, have some dignity, practice some basic level of decorum. In other words, whether literally or metaphorically, put your damned clothes on. But at least the women simply complaining about their kids aren't quite as bad as the women who stage emotional meltdowns for the camera and use their children as props in the performance.

This is another very popular genre. Here's one example. This, as we said, is all staged for the camera. Of course, the child doesn't understand. that it's fake, though, or why mommy is pretending to have a nervous breakdown over a little liquid spilled on an uncarpeted floor. And the point of the charade is for the woman to brag that she didn't hit her daughter or scream at her over a minor accident, though she did growl like a werewolf and clutch her head in agony over liquid spilling on the ground. This is what's supposed to be good mothering on TikTok. This is the good advice. If these are the good mothers, you to see the bad ones. In fact, we have seen them. One is on trial right now in Massachusetts,

so the bar gets very, very low. Now let's get to the part of this mansplaining lecture that might, just might, however slim the chance, be helpful to these women or any other parent who relates to them. If you genuinely hate being a parent, here's what you need to know. And I say this with all sincerity, okay? There is something wrong with you. Nobody will tell you that. Probably nobody ever has. In our culture, you're never supposed to inform anyone that there's something wrong with them, even especially, in fact, if there obviously is.

Well, I'm breaking that rule to tell you that there is something wrong with you. You should enjoy being a parent. You should enjoy it. Not all the time. Not every second of every day. I'm not saying you should live in a state of constant maternal euphoria or that you should never be frustrated or angry. or sad or irritated. But generally, as a rule, you should enjoy being a parent. It's not hard to enjoy. Opportunities for enjoyment present themselves every day, a couple of nights ago, to give one

random example. Took my kids out to dinner and then to a bookstore. That's our idea of a night out on the town. Okay. And it was fun, not just for them, but for me. The time I spent with my kids was it was not some great sacrifice. It was not a burden that I heroically shouldered for their sake. I actually just like hanging out with them. They're smart, they're funny, they're fun to be around. Now, yeah, they can annoy me sometimes, but anybody can annoy me. I mean, I've never spent considerable time around another human without being annoyed by them on occasion. And I've never spent considerable time around another human without causing them annoyance in return, I'm sure.

That's life. Generally, though, and I definitely cannot say this about everyone I've known, or even probably most people, I like spending time with my kids. And this is how you should feel about your kids. It doesn't take a great saint or a person of exceptional virtue to feel this way. If it did, I wouldn't, but I do. If I can enjoy being a parent, so can you. If you find that you hate parenthood and resent your kids and wish for nothing more than to be free of the responsibilities of caring for the children that you brought into the world,

there are two potential causes of this dysfunction. You're not going to like hearing about either of them. I'm just warning you. Both are unflattering. But someone in your life needs to tell you the unflattering thing. And I suspect that nobody ever has. So here it is. One potential reason that you hate being a parent is that you are so stuck in your own head, so consumed by your own ego, that you have never put in the minimal effort required to develop a real relationship with your children. You despise being around your kids because you despise being around anyone who makes any demands on your attention or your time. This is called narcissism. And narcissists can't enjoy

the company of any other human for very long because other humans are other. They are outside of you. They are different from you. And they are useful to you or sources of delight or satisfaction for you only as long as they serve your own needs. The moment they commit the sin of having needs that differ from yours, they have overstayed their welcome. And I would surmise that the vast majority of who hate their kids or at least hate being around their kids. And the distinction, by the way, is quite fragile between those two things. Hate it for this reason. The Lindsay Clancy, Moms of America, LCMA, will call their unofficial organization,

certainly fall into this category. They feel about their kids the way Clancy felt about hers because they, like her, place themselves at the center of the universe and automatically despise anyone or anything that would try to jostle them from. that central position. Now the other possible reason that you find your children tough to be around related to the first and not necessarily mutually exclusive is that your kids actually are tough to be around. They really are needy, miserable, obnoxious grading to a degree that even the most patient person would struggle to endure. I mean, it's possible that your kids would have

mother Teresa silently rolling her eyes and plotting the politest possible exit. If that's the case, and maybe it is, the reason they've turned out that way so far is that you have done an extremely poor job of raising them. It's your fault. It would not be an oversimplification, or at least only a very slight one, to say that your whole job as a parent is to help your kids become the kinds of people other people like to be around. Jordan Peterson has often made this point. If you don't even like being around them, imagine how other people, potential friends, potential employers, potential spouses will feel about them in the future. You have failed. And that's something that I'm guessing you already know, at least at some level, and it makes you

hate parenthood and hate your children even more. They are a reflection of your failures and you know it so you hate them. These are the two options. You hate being around your kids, either because you are a raging narcissist or because you have failed as a parent or both. Either way, this is what we call a you problem. It is your fault. Not theirs. This falls on you. And squarely on you, by the way. Also not on the system or, you know, the community or anyone. It falls on you. This is your failure. And it's important that you face that reality and accept it. After all, accept. is, as they say, an Alcoholics Anonymous, the first step. I've discovered what may be the shortest ingredient list currently available in America.

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your flight, your concert tickets, apparently. Society is deeply concerned about the financial future of your household electronics. But when it comes to protecting the income that pays for all those things, people tend to put it off for a long time. Life insurance sounds complicated, so it becomes one of those tasks you'll supposedly handle eventually and eventually has a habit of never arriving. PolicyGenius makes it easier to handle right now. Policy Genius is not an insurance company. It's a free online marketplace where you can compare quotes from some of America's top insurers side by side. Their license team helps you understand. coverage amounts, prices and terms, answers your questions, handles the paperwork,

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What can you do about it? Well, here's the good news. All is not lost. There is one very simple and very effective thing you can do to fix everything. And if not everything, then a lot of things. It's the method that will solve a surprisingly large number of your personal problems. And I'll tell you what it is. Pretend. If you hate being apparent and it's all your fault, which it is, then what you need to do is pretend that you don't hate it. Yes, pretend. Yes, suppress your true feelings. Yes, put on an act. Don't be genuine. Don't be authentic. Don't be honest about how you feel. Pretend. Fake it. Put on a facade and maintain that facade at all times and at all costs. Do this for the sake of your kids because it's deeply scarring and unfair to saddle them with your issues.

And this is, as we've established, your issue. Your kids should not have to cope with the reality that their mother or their father is a miserable narcissistic jerk who resents them for existing. There's nothing a child can do with that information. He can't fix it or you. That's not his job. Your child is not your parent or your therapist or your priest. He's not here to be the lighthouse in your emotional storm guiding you to a safe harbor. You're supposed to be his lighthouse. So even if you don't feel like it, even if you aren't into it, even if it's really hard and it really sucks and you're really sad and you're really depressed, or whatever, you need to turn that light on for his sake. You should also maintain the facade for the public, frankly.

Your kids shouldn't have to deal with your emotional fragility and vanity and egotism, and neither should any of the rest of us. We don't want to see your true self either because it's unsightly and off-putting. Nobody should be forced to bear witness to it. I refer back to the nudist analogy. Like, I don't want to see your exposed ass or your exposed emotions. I don't want to see any of that. for the same reason that I don't want to smell your body odor.

Now, sure, your stench after failing to bathe for a week might be more authentic. It might give me a more accurate whiff of your true self. But if your true authentic self is repulsive, then why should anyone be forced to be in close proximity to it? Why should there be any virtue in inflicting a repugnant personality onto the public, much less onto your family, just because it happens to be true? There are two very popular and modern and bad ideas at work here, both of them originating from, or heavily pushed by therapists and psychologist, as very popular and modern and bad ideas so often are. One is the notion that your most self-serving and antisocial impulses are somehow your true self, and that the height of authenticity is to act according to those impulses, as though authenticity means nothing more than enslaving yourself to your own emotions. And the other is what has been dubbed the hydraulic psychological model pioneered by guys like Freud, which teaches that your inner emotions and desires are like steam building up inside the pressure cooker of your mind.

And you have to let them out. You have to vent them so that you don't somehow mysteriously combust. And both of these have led in their most absurd and cartoonish manifestations to things like rage rituals, where women get together and scream and beat sticks on the ground as a form of some kind of bizarre catharsis. Watch. Now, you might think that impotent rage can't get any more preposterous and embarrassing than that, but a popular and recent version of this ritual somehow is even more inane, and it involves women, usually mothers, gathering ice cubes from the freezer and then locking themselves in the bathroom

and throwing the ice cubes at the bathtub, often while their kids are crying on the other side of the door, understandably confused and alarmed. Now, the problem with this approach, aside from the fact that it makes you look retarded, is that it does not actually release the steam or relieve the tension. All you have done by indulging the most ridiculous parts of yourself and the most obnoxious way imaginable

is work yourself up even more. Make yourself even more upset. and you have conditioned yourself to behave even worse in the future. Okay, these are temper tantrums. A temper tantrum is an unacceptable and unhealthy coping mechanism for a nine-year-old. If your nine-year-old is still having temper tantrums, that's an issue. For a 35-year-old, it's genuinely insane. Despite what Freud and his disciples have said for the past century,

and these people made up a lot of stuff, and this is one of them, you know, suppression and repression are actually generally good things. Okay, being a civilized adult, somebody who observes the most basic codes of etiquette and decorum, and who is not an antisocial freak or a raging selfish brat, means spending a huge chunk of every day presenting a version of yourself that is more tolerable, more appealing, more composed, and more attractive than the self that is buried in the most indulgent negatistical parts of your mind. That is the only way to be a functional person

and bringing it back to the matter at hand, the only way to be a functional parent. Fake it till you make it. Maybe the wisest and most useful cliche and the whole history of clichés. It's the best parenting advice you'll ever get. Act like the kind of parent you should be. Identify all the parenting traits you wish you had

and pretend that you have them. Put on a performance. It doesn't have to be an Oscar-winning production. You don't need to be a Philip Seymour-Hoffman-level, Thespian to pull it off. Your kids won't really notice. Pretend to be the sort of parent you ought to be. Shoulder the burden of your own narcissism

silently and with dignity. Wear a mask, yes, and keep it on until your true face takes the shape of the mask, conforms to it like a mold, until the mask and you are the same. you can in fact become something by pretending you are that thing. Now, it may not work that way in all areas of life. It doesn't work that way, for example, with biological sex, but in this specific area, it does. Because if you suppress your narcissistic feelings and tendencies and pretend to be

something other than the self-involved whiny emotional toddler that you are deep inside, after a while, by definition, you will no longer be that self-involved whiny emotional toddler. The very act of assuming the burden of your own weaknesses and failures and choosing not to inflict them on those around you turns you by force of will into precisely the unselfish, mature person you're pretending to be. There is no such thing as a selfish, immature person who typically acts unselfish and mature around other people. That's a contradiction in terms. It's like a married bachelor. Unselfish, mature people are people who act unselfish and mature, feeling other people.

otherwise and still acting that way only makes you all the more unselfish and mature. That's the funny thing about virtue. To act as though you have it is to have it. A person who feels like a great coward but pretends to be courageous by rushing into a burning building to save a child trapped inside is exactly what he pretends to be. A courageous man by definition is a man who is scared to do something, but does it anyway. Courage is a thing you do. Good parenting is a thing you do. You yourself are what you do. Your feelings and insecurities and selfish instincts may also be a part of who you are, but they are the least important, most fleeting, most tangential, certainly least interesting part. They can change on a minute to minute basis. They don't exist in any kind of real

physical sense. Nobody even knows about them unless you make a public announcement. When you die, The whole hazy cloud of emotions and sentiments in your head dies with you. But what you did, what you said, the person you presented yourself to be through your actions and words will be remembered. That's your legacy. That will be the thing that outlives you. It will be who you were. So it is now who you are. The other thing about feelings is that they are easily influenced.

They're stupid. They can be fooled. They can be duped, manipulated. Not just by other people, but by you. You can condition your feelings through your actions. So if you pretend to be a good and loving parent and you act as though you love your children and your spouse and enjoy being around them, the chances are very good that one day you'll look up and realize that you're actually not faking it anymore. You genuinely do enjoy giving your time and yourself to those you love.

This is a process, by the way, that plays out in small ways again and again. fake until you make it is not just a one-time fix. You'll have to continually act in ways other than how you feel as we establish. That's part of life. And you'll find that often your feelings follow after. Your feelings are the freight car, not the locomotive. They will go where you take them. I mentioned earlier the wild night out of the town with my kids a few days ago,

eating hamburgers and visiting a bookstore. Well, the dark and terrible secret is that at first I really didn't feel like doing any of that. was in kind of a bad mood for no particular reason. Because that's how moods tend to work. Moods, especially bad ones, don't need a reason to be what they are. They just are. And so what I wanted that night was for my kids to go to bed so I could have a break. Never mind that my day really had not been difficult. Nothing especially stressful had occurred. It was a fine day. It was a normal day. Yet here I was after a fine normal day needing a break. A break from what? Who knows? Fine normal stuff?

I guess. But then I realized that I'd rather be the kind of dad in this moment who spends time with his kids instead of the kind of dad who salks off in a huff because he's moody. So I pretended to be that better dad in that moment. I said that this little trip was no great sacrifice, and it wasn't. It was instead like the tiniest little microscopic sacrifice. And many of the sacrifices you have to make as a parent or as a person in general are roughly this size and scope. Sacrifice is so small that it's embarrassing to even describe them as such. And what do you know? Within about 10 minutes, I was enjoying myself.

I became the dad that I had so inauthentically portrayed myself to be. This is the magic of pretending. It works like a charm most of the time. Joe Rigney on X. reminds me of one of the many great C.S. Lewis quotes, where he summarizes the point more insightfully and succinctly than I have managed to do, of course. and he wrote, C.S. Lewis wrote, as practical imperatives for here and now, the two great commandments have to be translated, behave as if you loved God and man. Do not waste time bothering whether you love your neighbor, act as if you did. As soon as we do this, we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him. Now the inverse is also true. The more you act in an unloving way towards someone, the less. The less. The less. You are, and the inverse. The inverse is also true. The more you act in an unloving way towards someone, the less. The less. The less. The less. The less. The less. The less less you will actually love them. And that process plays out in families and destroys them all the time.

So act as if you love your family and your children and your station in life. Let the feelings follow as they probably will. Put on the act. Never tell anyone that it is an act. Keep it a secret known only to you. Until maybe, maybe one day long in the future when your child has a child of their own and seems to be struggling as you once did. You could sit them down and tell them only then about the war you waged successfully and quietly against your own selfish, resentful nature. And when they hear that after all those years, they won't think, wow, my mom didn't really love me.

It was all an act. Rather, they will think, wow, my mom loved me even more than I ever realized. And that will be the truth. Valdu for show day. Thanks for watching. Thanks for listening. Talk to you tomorrow. Have a great day. Godspeed. But in all of my years of public life, I have never profited from public service. I welcome this kind of examination because people have got to know whether or not their president is a crook. Well, I'm not a crook.

For more than five decades, from Iran-Contra to Monica Lewinsky to Russia Gate, every political scandal has been measured against one, the Watergate affair. But what if Richard Nixon was telling the truth? What if Watergate isn't what it seems? What if hundreds of thousands of pages of sworn testimony, memoirs, and newly released government documents tell a different story than the one you learned in school? In 1972, Nixon won the biggest electoral landslide in modern American history with grand plans to remake the federal government. Two years later, he was out of office.

You were taught that Nixon's men broke into the Democratic National Committee headquarters to to spy on his political opponents. You were taught that when he found out, Nixon covered it up. And the cover up was worse than the crime. You were taught that two heroic Washington Post reporters guided by a righteous FBI whistleblower brought the most powerful man in the world to justice.

But you were never taught what really happened. I shall resign the presidency effective at noon tomorrow. The real history of the Watergate scandal is available now on Daily Wire Plus.