misunderstandings be damned

I was just speaking with someone on the subject of their brother being misunderstood by the parents. The convo was started indirectly by reflecting on Kafka's Metamorphosis.

These gripes can be legit. Certainly I sympathize with having a disconnect with the family. I often wonder... I think we're all misunderstood to some degree, especially once we've lived away from family for a while. But it seems unique to our generation that we feel that our differences are unique enough that others should actually spend their time giving a damn. Are we due that amount of special treatment?