Why It Sucks to Be Born as an Ocean Sunfish?

You’re born looking like a tiny spiky frisbee with fins. Cute. Harmless. Absolutely clueless.

Then you grow up… and forget to stop.

Now you’re a 2,000-pound floating dinner plate with no tail, no neck, and a face that screams “I don’t know where I am.” You can’t close your mouth. You can’t steer properly, drifting your only solution

You’re the Ocean Sunfish. And if evolution was a group project, you were the part nobody proofread.

You can lay 300 million eggs in your lifetime — more than any vertebrate on Earth — and yet your baby sunfish still come out looking like they were designed in Microsoft Paint. Your body is mostly bone, jelly, and regret. You swim sideways, flop vertically, and regularly get caught in plastic bags because your brain is the size of a peanut.

But the worst part?

Sea lions use you as a chew toy. Not for food. Not for survival. Just for pleasure.

They tear your fins in chunks, nibble your face, leaving you spinning in circles like an underwater Roomba  breakingdown. Even sharks pass you up sometimes, like “Nah, that’s a cursed meal.”

And yet… you survive. Barely.

You sunbathe at the ocean surface like a dumb majestic pancake. You attract parasites like a living buffet, and then wait for cleaner fish to rescue you. You don’t even fight back. You just… float.

Because fighting would require aim. And you can’t even move in a straight line.

So yeah — if you’re looking for proof that nature has a sense of humor, meet the sunfish. A gentle, massive mistake that somehow still exists.

And that’s why it sucks to be born as an ocean sunfish.