(...) if love is in more restricted supply, the picture grows more complicated. The child knows it is in grave danger; (...). At this point, our biology initiates a desperate yet darkly logical process. The young child starts to try a lot harder. It redoubles its efforts to charm, to be good, to do what could be expected of it, to smile and to ingratiate itself. It wonders what may be wrong with itself to explain the disapproval and harm, and doesn't feel any alternative but to search in its own character and behaviour for answers.
(...) the child resists what might from one perspective seem like the obvious move: to get annoyed with and blame the adults in the vicinity who are not looking after it as they should.
It is far more intuitive to wonder why we are horrid than to complain of being treated unfairly and unkindly.
To explain the lack of love from the paragons of parenthood, it must be that the child is an awful person, they must be stupid and mean, selfish and slow, physically repulsive, irritating and shallow.
Liberation awaits us when we take on board a highly implausible idea: that our self-hatred, far from being inevitable, is an internalisation of early deprivation and that far from needing to revere and admire those who denied us love, we are in a position to understand, to question, to be annoyed and to mourn what we did not receive. We are not so despicable after all; we've just lacked any better ideas to explain why we didn't manage to charm those who should have been on our side from the start.