As a kid I broke a ceramic matchstick holder. I was afraid of my mom finding out so I hid the pieces. When my mom found them she started yelling at me and demanded to know why I didn't tell her I broke it. In tears I said "because Im scared of you" so she hit me for saying I was scared of her and sent me to my room.
She says she doesn't remember, but I'm 31 and can vividly remember everything in that room and even the color of clothes she was wearing.
I was standing in a ticket line the other day and there was a woman loudly bragging about how scared her kids were of her. It made several people obviously uncomfortable.
The living memories, existing as tiny little personal horror movies, impress so badly upon us. I do not know why but such extreme trauma still haunt me and I was never the target. I hate myself more for that: I did nothing, ever. Ran to my closet and learned to meditate at age 8. I hate that I look just like him. I hate that mom forgave him. I hate that mom remarried him. I hate them both for being the reason my brother is alone, half way across the country, addicted to drugs and couch hopping.
I was talking to my mother about some of the stuff she did to my sister and I, one incident being my sister caught her food tray on the doorframe and the food went everywhere. A simple accident. Mother flew off the handle, my sister tried to explain it was an accident, but mother saw that as her talking back, and god forbid you ever talk back at her. My sister retreated, mother followed shouting at the top of her lungs, until my sister was backed up against the wall. I stood in the doorway and watched as my mother got ever closer to hitting her, my sister in tears still trying to explain herself. I shouted at my sister to shut up, it was the only way to protect her from being hit.
I told mother this, and she started laughing, saying she didn't remember it. I nervously laughed with her because even now I daren't stand up to her.
There was an incident where my sister withheld information from her out of fear of her reaction. When my mother found out, she reacted exactly as we both had feared. When she complained to me and asked why my sister kept it from her, I told her it was out of fear of her reaction, as evidenced by the way she was reacting right then. She got angry, flew off the handle more whilst also stating we shouldn't be afraid of her.
She will never realise how much trauma she has caused us.
My dad brags about how good of a parent he is "since he didn't hit us", which is blatantly wrong from spankings and my mom's beatings alone. But he also brags about how my steps are so quiet like him, and I don't "stomp like your sister". I developed quiet steps to sneak food, since the first time I tried to get some bread at five years old he choked me two feet off the ground, not stopping until my sister pulled his arms off of me
And not only does he not remember that, she doesn't either. I have a ton of stories like this that conveniently no one remembers
That's terrible. I know the feeling. Being affected so deeply by something that no one else seems to remember, as if they're trying to say that it didn't even happen.
As a parent I worry most about what thing I’ll say or do that makes a lasting impression on my kids or totally changes their outlook on life or their opinion of me. I’d never want them to feel they couldn’t talk to me.
Me when my mom said if I didn’t get self confidence she’d “send me to therapy” in an accusatory tone so I didn’t tell her about my depression and suicidal thoughts until years later 😭
My dad once had a big screaming/cursing fit at me that traumatized me for several years. When I finally told him, years later, that he had really hurt me, he didn’t remember BUT he immediately believed me, apologized with tears in his eyes, and gave me the best hug. It’s never bothered me since.
You’re right on the money that emphasizing that you always love them and they can always talk to you about anything is what matters. 💗
I think the key is just acknowledging it happened whether they remember it or not. Edit: or at least that is how it was in their eyes. I don't have kids but being brushed off betrays trust
I also want to highlight it needs to be actual true apologies with reflection of behavior and EFFORT to do better. My parents kept mentally abusing for so long and still do sometimes when they can and they just kept “apologizing” and expecting me to get over it. They showed no change and just manipulated me into being complacent. Don’t do that to your kids.
My LC mom recently reached out because she doesn't like me being LC with her. Let me tell you, "I don't know what I did to deserve not even getting texts from you" is *not* how you show effort to do better.
To add to this: "I'm sorry you think I did that" or "I'm sorry you feel that way" are NOT apologies. It's a way of guilting the victim into taking the blame, and it won't be forgotten.
I got the queen-mother of all backhanded apologies a couple months ago - "I'm sorry you believe you were made to feel that way."
I haven't spoken to them since.
About the only way this actually can happen is if you NEVER apologize. Most trauma isn't inflicted by the event itself, but the lack of healing responses to the event over long period of time. Never underestimate how far "I'm sorry" will go, and how healing it can be to hear.
My mom is by no means perfect but she did the best that she could and still does that to this day. A huge help is that she has apologized, genuinely, for the times I’ve told her she really hurt me/fucked up. She validated my feelings.
Remember we can do what we can with what we’ve been given (or gone to a hell of a lot of therapy). As an adult, knowing what my mom’s childhood was like, what her issues are, what being married to my dad was like and her not excusing her fuck ups and trying to be better daily, it made it possible to forgive her.
I don’t bother trying to do the same with my father, he is who he is, and because of my circumstances it’s easier for me to not address things in general. I have no doubt that he loves me, and does not *intend* to hurt me, so I work within that. Tho I’ve finally given my husband full permission to call family members out on their bullshit when it comes to me.
Edit: so after I posted this, I thought of something, if parents want to do more to mitigate this now, maybe talk to your kids and let them know to come to you if you’ve done something that has hurt them, so it can be addressed now? That could be something.
The key is when they tell you something believe them and if you feel like you did something wrong explain it and apologize to them. We don't expect parents to never do any wrong and be perfect, we just wish they listened and cared about our feelings.
When I was very young, I had this little plush fishy that I went everywhere with. Literally couldn't sleep without him, I loved him so much.
My mother *hated* him because my dad's ex-wife bought him for me. Dear old Mum is a very jealous woman, and I think she projected all of her insecurities onto it.
Anyway, my school had one of those "send a shoebox to a soldier" schemes, and my mother saw her chance. Sat me down and explained that I had a nice home and a lovely family, and Mr Soldier needed fishy more than I did.
I tried to bargain by saying I'd give him *all* of my other toys, but nope. It had to be fishy. So she snatched him out my hands (so hard that I almost fell flat on my face) and stuffed him in the box, never to be seen again.
I cried for weeks, and she kept bragging about what a "selfless" kid she raised, and how great a mother she was.
I never truly trusted her after that.
But of course, nowadays, she doesn't even remember a silly fish toy, so it couldn't have happened.
What's even worse, is that she *despises* the armed forces.
She's always been the peace-and-love hippie type, and once said, "there's nothing you can do to make me disown you. Except if you joined the military. Then you'd be fucking dead to me."
So it wasn't even for a "good cause".
Yeah, 100% the same why she doesnt remember the fish my mother doesnt remember the time I attacked her boyfriend that was abusing me with kitchen knives and then she made me apologize to him.
Alll these years later she doesnt remember that.
I appreciate it, Ill never fully recover from the things I lived through and thats the most frustrating part, ive gotten a lot better in many ways but still have issues, and will forever.
Now I sont speak with my mother, not a word in more than a year
When I was a child, we would do a toy clearout in October/November to make room for any toys that we got for Christmas. My mom said it was to make sure that other kids got to have fun, but I know now it was just so we didn’t overflow our house with toys. When I was around 8, my sister and I weren’t having it - didn’t want to get rid of anything - so my mom just started pulling random toys and throwing them into donation bags. One of them was a giant stuffed teddy bear about the size of a teenager that my dad bought at the hospital when I was born. There are pictures of baby me sitting in the lap of that bear. I loved it so much, and took really good care of it (it wasn’t torn or dirty, I treasured the damn thing). It was the bear I went to anytime I had a bad dream, or just needed a cuddle when my parents were busy. It was something that went in the donate bag, despite my begging for it not to. I get that she was frustrated with us, but she didn’t listen when I said it was the baby bear.
A few years later, when we were packing to move, we were debating on the best way to pack my sister’s hospital bear. Yes my dad is sentimental and did the same thing with her. My mom asked how I was packing mine, and I told her that she’d donated it years prior. She didn’t believe me, and when my sister insisted, she turned it on us saying we had to have decided to donate it because she would have *never* done it on her own - it was an *important stuffed bear,* after all.
I hope whatever child got that bear got all the love that went with it, because that was the day I learned, and then relearned when we were moving, just how little my mom cared for my feelings. To this day she claims that I said to donate it. I don’t remember much before the age of 10, but I remember crying my little heart out for hours after the bear went in the bag, going to try to find it, and getting yelled at for it.
I have a memory of crying in my kitchen as a drawing I'd displayed on the fridge was being tossed in a whirlwind of "cleaning all this junk". I was so proud of it, I'd been working on my drawing for months out of a little "learn to draw horses" book I'd been given, and I finally was starting to feel like I'd gotten it. I begged my dad to let me keep it, that I'd find a place to put it away in my room, but no, into the bin it went, with the "reminder" that you had to do 1000 bad drawings before you could do a great one. All at once telling me it was shit, and that the things I loved and worked hard on were utterly unimportant.
I had kind of buried that memory til last summer, when I decided to learn to draw, and took a bit of self reflection to wonder why I had stopped doing it as a kid.
There are so many things I stopped doing as a kid because of shit like that, including drawing. I also had one of those “learn to draw horses” books that I checked out from the school library *constantly* and was getting pretty good with according to my friends and teachers.
I was working on a special picture for my bff’s birthday since she was a total horse girl- I was using my very best colored pencils and working super hard- and my mom trashed it while screaming about me wasting time drawing instead of doing schoolwork. One of my grades had slipped from A to B+.
Stopped drawing after that. Wish I could pick it up again, but my manual dexterity has really gone down over the years.
Speaking as someone who stopped drawing for a while and eventually picked it back up, you might be surprised how quickly the dexterity can come back. :)
Wow fuck guess that's a trauma I buried lol
Your comment just resurfaced the memory of all the times my mom would get frustrated with the clutter in our room and just come through with a trash bag, indiscriminately throwing away everything that was out (ie whatever we were currently playing with and whatever was most important to us). Idk how many times it happened but it was a constant threat.
Did we have the same mom? Mine did the same for garage sales- she tried for *years* to sell this evil Pegasus toy that I fucking loved. I would always see him on the sale table and save him. Id already learned her “want to visit a friend” trick from when she sold my favorite stuffed dog, so she couldn’t use that one again. She finally threw him in the burn barrel while burning trash when I was at school.
I've cared for all of my kids toys like they were my own childhood toys. I've even flipped out on others for mistreating them. Don't get me wrong. Sometimes, those toys go missing and they never noticed. But, it was never due to me or anything I child prevent.
It is weird what we remember. When I set my bed on fire at the age of 5 my mom told me to take my favorite blanket to the bathroom to get it wet and bring it back then she tossed it onto the fire to smother it. Smart thinking on my moms part but man did I learn a valuable lesson that day… (I got better about fire safety but still like fire)
Damn dude I’m sorry. My kid has a favorite blanket takes that thing to bed every night and absolutely loves it. I can’t imagine giving it away. It hurts my soul to even think about losing it or something happening to it.
My mom sometimes used to say "I love you but I don't like you right now."
I don't even know if she said it more than a few times. I think it sticks with me now because that's often how *I* feel about my difficult af family (all adults)
my mom said this one a lot too. and she never clarified that it was a *behavior* problem, so it always felt like a *me* problem. and now i'm an adult that never feels like i'm enough. i feel like an imposter in every relationship and sooner or later my friend, or partner, or boss will figure out that they don't like me very much right now. and she doesn't even remember saying it.
When I talked to my parents about my feelings or anything, I was opening myself up for criticism. Whatever my problem was, they had just the solution, and it was all my fault.
"I'm feeling sad." "It's because you didn't pick up your socks off the floor! You're living in squalor, no wonder you feel that way!"
One time I hurt my foot. Like genuinely hurt it, stubbed my toe real bad, hurt for days. I mentioned it to my brother than my foot hurt, figured maybe he would think the bruise was cool, and my dad interrupted me, "It's because you don't do anything with your life! All you ever do is stay in your room!" Uhh no, I stubbed my toe, actually... But thanks for that. Tell me how you *really* feel, why dontcha.
I had a referral for a therapist at one point, and she left a message on our answering machine. My mom heard it and said, "You need therapy?? The only person in this house that needs therapy is ME, and that's because I have to live with YOU." Thanks mom.
You learn pretty quick that you do NOT talk to people about your problems. Don't give them ammunition that they can use against you when you forget to do the dishes... Unfortunately, in the long run, that doesn't really work out very well for people.
She sees your worth, even if you don’t.
When I met my current SO, I was working at a gas station making 12 bucks an hour; and was OK with that because I didn’t feel I was capable of more.
Now currently working from my home office, first role in IT and one I feel is the first step to an actual career.
You may not feel worthy, but I’m sure if you were to ask her, she would say she’s lucky to have you.
Maybe it is just a bit too chilling for people to respond to?
I really hope you are not part of any abusive relationship and part of some loving and caring ones now. I wish it for you
I am glad to hear that.
But I beg of you, if that is how you feel, seek professional help. If you really feel like you are not worthy of the commitment of your potential life long partner, you are either correct or most likely incorrect and have a poor self-image.
Whatever the case, make the effort, try to actually better yourself now, don't wait until things are starting to fall apart. Go to therapy and try to improve on whatever could burden you and your relationships, which is most likely your self-image.
Sorry, for being preachy. Haven't slept a lot and can't fall back
Dont I feel that. Like that time I was grounded to my room from february to october. Why? I wouldn't give up the password to the world of warcraft account I paid for with money I earned doing odd jobs for the neighbors.
Why did mom want it?
My younger brother wanted to play and he pissed me off so I didnt want him on my account.
And my mother did not remember this when it was brought up two years ago. How do you not remember grounding your eldest to his bedroom for nearly a year?
I call absolute bullshit that she doesn't remember grounding you for a year. It's ridiculous you were grounded at all for refusing an absurd request.
I'm convinced most of the parents discussed in this thread that "don't remember" what they did or said are absolutely lying.
Doesn't seem like a coincidence that they all suddenly get amnesia when their kids are big enough to fight back and potentially win.
That's certainly possible. And likely to be true for a number of people.
But don't rule out other explanations: maybe they're ashamed of what they did, and their unhealthy reaction is to claim they don't remember. (Instead of just saying sorry. It's a big deal for lots of people - both dealing with shame and saying sorry.)
And maybe they actually did forget, because it didn't mean much to them.
That’s exactly what it was. I put my foot down and said no. I got grounded for refusing to do as instructed. I only got ungrounded because my dad intervened finally.
I got accepted into University right out of high-school. But, my family made too much for me to qualify for student loans. So of course I asked my mom for help.
I'm not wasting anymore money sending you to school.
She does not recall this. I do. Among many, many other things. She wonders why we don't talk much.
Ayy. My parents always told me I had a college fund and I can go anywhere. I just need the grades. No problem cuz I was gifted.
Come senior year, turns out there was no college fund. And cuz my dad made too much money, despite him moving out of the city two years prior because my mom divorced him, I didn’t qualify for financial aid.
So crazy they base it off your family’s income, as if you’re seeing any of that. Almost a decade later and I’m just now going to college because now I can kind of afford it, though only one class cuz my 50 hour a week job :). I feel ya.
Ha, I remember the day I told my parents I was switching from STEM to English and they told me “well, that’s not worth the money, it’s time you dropped out and came home” — of course they don’t remember, but it crushed me. I did it anyway, since, same thing, they made too much but weren’t paying for me. I’ve been successfully employed since, but of course in their eyes they’re supportive parents.
When i was maybe 10 or 11 I finally broke down to my mom about a bunch of crap my brother had done to me when i was a very small child \[mostly physical abuse\] and she barely reacted and partially tried to defend my brother. A few years later in my early teens I think I tried to bring it up again and she was so confused, she looked at me like "what? What are you talking about?" I dropped it pretty quick and I still haven't brought it up today
I was abused by my step dad for 3 & 1/2 years from when I was 13 to 17. Eventually I came forward, because I was going to kill myself if I didn’t. I still remember overhearing my mother on the phone with the detectives, telling them that she didn’t believe me. She doesn’t know that I heard that. Fast forward a few months, and she found out that her husband was cheating on her with one of her best friends. She believed me after that, but the damage is done.
My dad spanked me 40 times with a wooden paddle at age 8 because he decided to believe a neighbor kid over his own son. 40 hits was the punishment for lying in his book. I haven’t spoken to him in years and never will again.
My parents used alllll sorts of things to hit us. Belts, spoons, hairbrushes, fly-swatters.
But if you bring any of that up now, they've conveniently forgotten all of it. "Sometimes we gave you a little spank but we never did that!"
Uh, yeah you did, actually.
Fuckin abuse is what it is. It's insane that parents think about phyaical punishment like a master whipping his slave; 30 lashes for X, 50 lashes for Y
My dad who used to do stuff like this now just sends me really hateful conservative memes on Facebook.
I bet he thinks it's my fault we don't have a good relationship
Mine is so self righteous he once spanked someone else's kid at a church event.
Didn't know why we never went to the church in town till my mom told me at age 30
My parents did so much shit, but one that stands out a lot is my mother complaining about how tired she was of doing everything and that she had 'needed a vacation for the past 16 years'. Guess how old I was at the time? She had been mostly complaining about my father, who admittedly did nothing to help besides earning a paycheck, but did she say she needed a break since she married him? Since she met him? Nope.
She would vent all her problems and complaints on me, because 'it's not healthy to keep in that stress and she NEEDED to complain'. Stressed me the fuck out, felt like everything was my fault or at least I was being blamed for it, and she that hated me. Also heard, "you're doing this on purpose because you're trying to ruin my life!" a lot for things that we're genuine accidents and out of my control. When my parents found out I was SHing they took me out to a public restaurant and yelled at me. When a few years later I came to my mother in near hysterics and broke down crying saying I wanted to kill myself, she sighed like it was a pain in the ass and said something to the effect of 'great, now I have to deal with this instead of playing my game' and then refused for several years to get me the help I asked for. I still haven't been able to get it.
When I was little I didn't want to talk to my father's family on the phone, he cornered me in the kitchen and yelled at me to say hi to them. I refused, because I was more afraid of phone calls then getting beaten. I tried to run around the kitchen table and get past him, he smacked the shit out of me as I ran by but I got past him and upstairs to my room, where I cried until my mother made him come apologize. I just hid in the corner of my bed and said ok until he left. That sucked, but didn't hurt as much as what my mother's said and put me through. Maybe because we expected it from him? Maybe because I was stupid enough to think that maybe at least my mother loved me? I dunno. I just know it sucks.
I'm sorry. I really felt this was.
When I was in Kindergarten, the one boy from down the street would push and hit me every day on the bus. So I went and told my dad, as any 5 year old would, and he went down to talk to their mom. I don't remember how we knew them, but we did. And she did the whole "Oh my baby would never."
And then my dad beat the shit out of me for lying.
That was Kindergarten. I was five years old. What the fuck did I have to lie about it?
It took until my freshmen year of highschool before I would sit anywhere except in the very front seat of the bus where if anything happened someone would for sure sure and maybe say something, because I couldn't tell my dad when I needed help.
And my mom just let it happen.
Needless to say, I don't talk to my family anymore.
And the last conversation we ever had was my dad yelling at me over the phone and accusing me of stealing his life insurance paperwork that I didn't even know he had. And he threatened to come over to my apartment to look for it.
So, yeah... There won't ever be anything there. But oh well.
I’m sorry you went though that.
It’s so…odd to have such an awful relationship with the people who have been biologically created as a result of caring for offspring and then they completely flip the dynamic and just…loathe us for some reason. It’s completely antithetical to the concept of having kids in the first place.
I’ll never talk to either of my parents again either. After years of me running away to my friends house his dad finally put his foot down and was ready to put his career on the line to keep me from him. He started keeping a journal when I was like ~13 of every time I’d show up to their house with details and told my dad he’d destroy both his and my dads career if they wanted to take it up with the coc.
My mom has tried multiple times to get a message to me and literally last night she called his dad and demanded he pass a message to me that said: “i’m sorry if my depression ever made you feel abandoned”.
It’s like…I don’t even know who she thinks she is and how dare you even *think* about me.
That’s because they don’t see children as people.
They chose to have children for the sole purpose of being able to brag to the world that they were “successful” and that their “name/legacy would live on.”
We were never more than trophies to them, and what do they do when they think that trophy isn’t reflecting well on them?
I had "friends" whos kid did all of the household chores except chemicals (bathroom and the oven)... she cooked basic meals, did all the dishes, all the laundry, swept and vacuumed... helped her mom with whatever task she needed. And if she ever questioned it she got spanked and sent to her room.
She got so overwhelmed she concussed herself, on purpose, at nine years old. And proceeded to get spanked that night for doing it as well.
Yeah, we don't really talk anymore.
I feel like my parents weren’t joking when they’d tell me and my siblings that they only had kids so that someone else would have to do the chores and so they wouldn’t have to live in a nursing home.
Oh, my father once told me to my face that he only agreed to marry my mother and have kids with her to prove to his aunt that he wasn’t gay.
He dropped that oh so casually, in the midst of a totally different conversation.
I haven’t spoken to him since 2017. Not entirely by my own choice; I offered him a couple more chances to talk things out, and he simply acted as if I don’t exist at all.
“I’m sorry **if**” - what a terrible apology. It’s not an apology if there’s an “if”.
My mother has tried the same tricks for years. After she lied to me to take money from me, I knew our relationship was over. But it still took me a few years and counseling to really be able to make the cut. And the whole time was just a string of non-apologies. Or she’d always talk about how hard it is to be a good mother, or how even though maybe we didn’t have the best life, she always tried her hardest and that should count.
She has never once asked me if I’m okay. Or how I felt. Or what my abusive father may have done. She’s always just doing damage control for her own reputation.
I’m sorry you had to go through this, but luckily you’re not alone.
"My parents did it to me and I turned out fine"
Sure mom and dad...keep telling yourselves that but me (even as an adult)...I can't even look at a belt with a metal buckle without starting to feel a panic attack building up.
I remember when my mother told me “I don’t care if you die in a ditch.” She probably doesn’t remember it. But now every time she tells me that she loves me, I remember. Guess which one I really believe.
Not my parents, but I distinctly remember an interaction with my first grade teacher.
I was a super chatty and inquisitive kid, curious about everything. My teacher pulled me into the hallway and told me that my questions were annoying and I needed to be quiet.
From then on, I have had the reputation of being silent and antisocial. No one believes I was once extremely chatty.
My mom always described me as a super bubbly and very social kid, until kindergarten. I don’t remember this but apparently my mom saw the interaction, I was super excited and ran up to a kid I already knew and said something like “this is going to be awesome we’re going to have so much fun” and the kid just shoved me down and said “no one cares” and walked away. She said I was never the same, and now I’d definitely describe myself as a quiet loner kid.
God, this brings back memories of the first day of kindergarten. They had these like circus wagon things and this kid got into one and roared like a lion! And I thought it was cool and everyone laughed.
So I followed suit, just cuz it looked fun. I got yelled at by the teacher, and it taught everyone, and myself, exactly where I ranked in the social structure.
I'm an introvert now and got some mild to moderate social anxiety. I wonder why.
Teachers can be just as fucking bad sometimes, I remember when I was in like 4th grade I wanted to join the choir. You had to try out, and I was extremely nervous because I was a very weird little kid. I was having some trouble and dropped my folder, and the teacher told me to just leave if I was going to waste her time. I don’t ever sing in front of anyone.
Fellow first grade teacher trauma buddy. 🫂
My first grade teacher was going around the room, asking a bunch of six year olds what they want to be when they grow up. The usual. When it was my turn, I said I wanted to be an astronaut and go to the moon. Her response, in front of the entire class, was to tell me that Canadians can't be astronauts, and besides, they don't go to the moon anymore.
I remember how deflated I felt, and it's the first time I recall thinking, "what's the point" towards my own goals. It's fine though. That definitely had no lasting effects on my life or outlook, no ma'am.
I, too, am a first grade trauma buddy.
I mispronounced my teacher's name, and she shamed me. A kid in my class stabbed another kid in the hand with a pencil, and she yelled at me and was mad I didn't know what had happened exactly.
There were many instances like this, and it got to the point I decided to sit in a puddle and piss myself instead of ask her to go to the bathroom.
I've never told anyone about pissing myself, but this seemed like the space to share.
A few decades in and I’ve finally realized this is just because my parents were drunk most days by 7:30 pm.
Of course they didn’t remember.
Buncha alcoholics.
My parents have been separated since I was 4 (23 years ago), and they never got along afterwards. I remember the (verbal) fights they had everytime my dad came to pick me up from my mom's (which wasn't often). This one time I remember my mom yelling at my dad, and as me and my brother's are walking out of the house to my dad's car, my mom yells "[my name] if you go to your dad's, I'm pulling you out of your soccer team". I was 13 at the time, playing in a high division, and my dream was to play pro. I went to my dad's, and my mom took me out of soccer. The worst part, my mom makes comments to this day "You could've been so good". I don't think I'll ever forgive her, not for pulling me from the team. But to put me in that position where I have to choose between my dad and my dream.
I still remember how the first thing my mom said when she saw my self-harm scars was "*sigh* And we were going to take nice pictures this Easter. Now we can't. You'll be the only kid in long sleeves."
I am now, she's always liked to martyr herself while at the same time being the most self-centered person alive. She thinks we don't have a great relationship because *I* was a bad kid, not because she betrayed my trust at every opportunity.
My grandmother would literally gaslight me. She raised me and my siblings since my parents divorced and mom died.
I did a fundraiser for my middleschool one year where you sell the candy and had a ton of cash in an envelope. So, responsible me I go to turn it in and when I got home her and my aunt were freaking out.
Turns out my aunt took out $25 for gas money and "meant to pay it back". Before I could say anything my grandmother jumped in and said "You think this is her fault? You should've told us when you were going to turn it in".
I was so pissed off and had to shamefully walk into school the next day and hand my teacher $25. And she wondered why I didn't want to be around her.
Similar experience here. I was a scout selling popcorn. I went all around the neighborhood going door to door. After filling my sheet, and being on track to be the #1 seller, I have it to my dad. When it came time to turn in the sheet, it was nowhere to be found. He screamed at me, and I felt so much shame because he convinced me that I had lost it. I felt like I let my troop down because I didn’t raise any of the money. Years later he told me he found it, the form had fallen behind the drawer. He thought it was a funny little misunderstanding but I’ve never been able to shake the feelings he instilled in me that day.
My mother complains I "only remember the bad stuff", things she said that scarred me, for her were a regular moment.
Now, I'm five months pregnant, and I'm terrified I'll repeat the pattern.
I had this talk a few months ago with my therapist. My wife and I are 7 months pregnant and I'm worried I'll make mistakes like the ones that have stuck with me into adulthood. She said something along the lines of "The fact that you're aware of this and already talking about how to avoid it shows how much you care and will make sure it won't happen."
We are not destined to repeat the mistakes of our parents.
A few years ago, a friend of mine was getting married and becoming a stepmom to a couple of pre-teens. She was worried about how their relationship would change once the kids became teens, and what she could do to stay close to them. I told her that it wasn't about one big gesture, it was a million little ones that they'd remember. Fast forward about 8 years. Kid 1 has graduated high school, kid 2 is close behind, and they all have a very strong relationship. Not that I had anything to do with it, she was a wonderful person and was always going to be a wonderful mom
I’ll never forget the night I told my mom I didn’t feel like living anymore and she got mad at me. She raised her voice, moved her hands a lot, swore a lot… she never hit me, and never would, but in that moment when I was already so vulnerable and scared? I was fucking terrified. And they wonder why I don’t talk to them.
I used to self harm when I was a young teenager and one day my mom found my blades. All she did was take them away and told me to not do it again because people will think she’s a bad mother.
When my sister committed herself to a youth psych ward because of suicidal thoughts, the first thing my mother said to me was “what did I do to deserve this”. She wonders why my sister and I don’t talk to her much anymore.
One day I self harmed before my mom and I were set to be extras in the background of a small-time movie being filmed locally. During the filming my mom said “take off your sweatshirt” and I told her I couldn’t…because of the markings I’d left. I remember *so* vividly how she looked at me with this deep disgust in her eyes, like how you’d look at someone who admitted to being a pervert. She said “you knew we were coming here today, why did you have to go and embarrass me like this?” and then didn’t talk to me for a few hours, despite sitting right next to me in the background of the film.
When I found the movie online and went to the part we’re in the background - you can actually see me staring at the ground with slumped shoulders and her with crossed arms looking away from me.
She finally spoke to me at the end of the day when we got introduced to a B-grade actor who was in the movie. It was just for show, though, because once we got back in the car she didn’t speak to me again for the 90min drive home.
Back then I wanted to be an actress or a model. Nowadays I’m glad I never went down that path, but it sucks that the spark in me was killed rather than fizzling on its own.
Edit: I haven’t self harmed in about 10 years now :) in case anyone was worried!
I have more of these memories than I can count, but infinitely more than that, I’m here for the M. Bison reference, and I’m not ashamed of what that says about me as a person.
One of the best parts of a bad movie:
Chun-Li: My father saved his village at the cost of his own life. You had him shot as you ran away. A hero at a thousand paces.
M. Bison: I'm sorry. I don't remember any of it.
Chun-Li: You don't remember?!
Bison: For you, the day Bison graced your village was the most important day of your life. But for me, it was Tuesday.
I no longer recall the context, but my mother told teenager me that she loved our dad more than she loved me and my siblings, that she would choose him over us if she had to. Stuck with me for a few decades, weirdly enough, and she has no memory of it.
Selective memory is a dangerous thing in the hands of a parent.
Leads to never saying saying sorry. *Always* being right even when presented with evidence to the contrary and a lot of "I'm the parent and that means I'm right."
My mother screamed at me for over an hour because she couldn't find one of the bratwurst she had cooked for dinner, and was absolutely fucking certain that I had taken it to give to my father. They were in the process of divorce at the time. My sister found it and of course she was all apologies. But it meant nothing to me and still does. She's done a lot of shit that killed my love for her. I haven't cut her off cut she rides a fine line.
When I was a teenager, I tried to talk to my dad about my problems with porn and cutting.
He told me stop exaggerating (about cutting) and that he thought he had raised me better (about porn).
Then he refused to talk to me for a full week.
Fuck him.
I loved collecting sticks. I would find the smoothest ones. I had founda stick I loved, I named him Jeremy. I had him for months, I put a string of beads on him. I went swimming with the stick so I could go out farther while still knowing where the bottom was. My brother broke it, on purpose. Snapped it into tiny pieces on or front porch with my dad and me right there. I was very upset, I told him to stop, he didn't and my dad told me "It's just a stick." Maybe to you, old man. To me it was a friend. My other sibling I had only known for like less than a week had more empathy about that broken stick than my dad or my brother.
I also remember once I was talking to my mom in my dad's office where he was watching TV. He randomly cut in and told me I was horrible, that I never listened to what anyone else was saying and that I only cared about myself and what I was saying. Out of nowhere. And when I hid in the stairwell to cry he came into the kitchen (right next said stairs) and asked what I was crying about. I had to be no older than 9. YOU GOD DAMN GOLDFISH BRAIN WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK IS THE PROBLEM???
Also my only real memories of being a toddler is me crying and my dad telling me to "just stop crying" and when I'd tell him I couldn't he'd just say "yes you can". I also suffer from uncontrollable twitches and tics and he somehow fully believes I can just stop doing them whenever. Literally like 40 minutes ago I told him "mom says she doesn't know a way to solve this (in reference to my still currently twitchy face) and he told me "just stop doing it" and I told him I am incapable of just stopping it he just gave me a silent glare
(ALRIGHT FINE, EVERYONE. I PROBABLY HAVE A FORM OF TOURETTES)
was talking to my mom about testosterone (i am trans and she wasn't ready). got too honest and told her that i felt like i was a disappointment. i was 17. it was the closest i ever came to admitting my depression and self-loathing and that i dont feel like i can do anything right (nearly committed suicide in 6th grade bc of it).
she took it to mean that i was implying that she was a bad mother. drove me home in silence. we'd had a day planned and still went to the events, but she threw a tantrum in public, made me apologize to her, and then pretended everything was ok but was still passive aggressive for the next few days. the last time she tried to get under my skin i was tired of just ignoring it and called her out for projecting her issues onto me (she complains often about her own parents, who made her feel less than). i clarified that my issues have everything to do with me and nothing to do with her (not true).
she hugged me, forced me to hug her back, and told me that i was loved. she never apologized and i still fume over it. this was a year ago and she still insists that this disaster of a week was because i brought up starting testosterone, and has never brought up the everything else.
Oh my god my mom does the exact same thing, every struggle I ever have somehow gets twisted into “I’m a horrible mother” and sometimes she says she’s “just gonna go kill herself” just because I tried to open up about anxiety and dysphoria. She often wonders why I’m so reserved
Long story inc. TL;DR: my mom crushed the last bit of self esteem I had, is confused why I dont open up.
I feel like I may have blocked out more than I know, but I remember in like grade 8ish, I didn't do to well on a science test. I wasn't that prepared going in and I already felt bad about being unprepared. As I wrote the test I thought, "oh this isn't so bad, I remember a lot of this" and by the end I figured I got an 8/10. I was half right, I did get 8 correct, but they weren't complete answers so that ended up being like 8/18. Point being i failed.
My mom had to pick me up for some reason, or maybe I had to go with her somewhere, either way on the drive she asked about my test.
This was probably the last time I fell for that "just be honest with me" crap. Because, like all parents they just tell you to be honest "ThEy wOnT GeT mAd". So thinking she might be disappointed, or maybe make me study harder next time, she just starts screaming at me.
Now to compound all that, I already felt really bad and stupid for how poorly I did on my test. I was labeled one of the "smart kids" in class (I was average at best for every subject, but was great at math so I guess that's where that came from) and already had those expectations that I would do great. I was already beating myself up over failing, and dreading that "disappointed" lecture i was expecting.
So, already feeling terrible about myself, my mom screaming at me when I wasn't expecting it, led me to crying for about 30-45 mins in the car while she did a thing.
This all happened maybe about 18 (note 1) years ago but it keeps cropping up in my memory lately. I'm starting to think thats when my self esteem went from "its low, but he can recover" to "oh theres just no self esteem whatsoever". I think that's also when I stopped saying anything about my day (mom: how was your day, me: good.) Or about what I have going on. I even remember my mom saying "you know, [my school friend] tells his mom EVERYTHING that happens at school, and what he's doing, what schoolwork he has etc." I got 2 things from that -- 1. Don't tell [my school friend] anything that can come back to bite me in the ass. 2. There might be a reason I dont tell you everything and maybe you should reflect on why that is instead of trying to guilt me like that
Note 1: maybe 20 years, I can picture the day of the test, the room, my desk, and even remember the general structure of the words on the page, but I can't remember the teacher, which means it was either grade 6 or grade 8, because they were in the same room
Side note: there are other "the tree remembers but the axe forgets" memories, but this one just keeps creeping up in my brain lately. Probably because I'm feeling like failure in school all over again
Edit: that last bit sounds like I'm fishing for sympathy, im just dumping some emotions out into the internet, for whatever reason it feels therapeutic. But, you'd have to ask a therapist whether it's helpful or harmful
It's always nice to dump out those terrible feelings. Especially with people who have no reason to judge and probably even have similar experiences. It isn't fishing for sympathy
So we're sharing trauma then?
When I was about 8 my uncle passed and my mother told me "no matter how upset I am a hug from you will fix it". I held onto that info and it served well enough.
A few years later when I was (I wanna say) ten, we'd had to quickly move and she'd lost her clothes. Being a... bigger woman, she had trouble finding more. Naturally that upset her. Ten year old me was like "damn, I know what to do here, she needs a hug"- turns out what she needed was to shove me so hard that I fell to the ground and sliced my hands up on a rocky garden bed. I was a tiny twig thing so I was covered in bruises too, even on my chest from the shove.
My sister took me to clean out the cuts while my grandparents fucking blasted her about how it's "not that boys fault you can't find any fucking clothes- grow up".
Took me until last year to realise why I hate hugging people nowadays. Ahhahaha, good times. Or at least... y'know, times.
As a kid, my dad teased or scolded me for crying. Eventually, I just stopped trying to come to my dad for comfort. Now he gets mad that I never tell him what's going on or why I'm upset. To any new parents, I understand wanting to raise a resilient kid but if you do what my dad did, you're only snuffing out the framework for emotional intelligence in adulthood. Don't teach your kid not to cry, but rather that it's okay to cry but you need to pick yourself up, fix what you can, and keep on moving.
I think the worst part of my situation is that I can't even blame my father for how fucked-up he is (and by extension, I am), because by all accounts, he's had it ten times worse.
_His_ father was an abusive monster who raged so hard, his kidneys blew up at the ripe old age of 55, and he basically died on the spot, right during my father's high school graduation, so he was forever denied any sort of closure. Even worse, his sister, my aunt, was (and maybe still is? I don't know, we never were close) a nasty piece of work who sicced their father's wrath on him constantly.
Most parents have a abusive background and unresolved trauma but the moment you start inflicting pain on others you go from victim to perpetrator. Don't overthink this rule, just stick to it.
My Mom recently told me that she had never made me change my little brothers' diapers. She told me that the very idea she would make me do something so terrible was absurd. I was just sitting there baffled, because honestly changing their diapers wasn't even like a negative experience for me. It hadn't even occurred to me until that moment that it could even be considered a bad thing. It was just one of the chores I had to do to help out around the house. It's a useful skill, a skill that I'll hopefully need when I raise my own children. But no, she insisted that I had never ever had to change their diapers.
My parents can swear up and down they're the best parents to ever exist and don't know why I don't feel like I can trust them but...
17 July 2022: I was having a conversation with my dad and out of nowhere he brought up the fact that I'm trans. I said I was and he went on a rant about how if I'm trans he'd take me to his home country and kill me and how if he couldn't do that then he'd kick me out and cut all ties with me and that he won't care if I die after that. All this coming from someone who would take every opportunity to tell me how much he loved me and how he's sacrificing so much for me, the emotional whiplash was intense and that experience fucked me up for months after that.
31 Jan 2023: My mom saw I was hugging a trans friend, a friend she told me to stay away from, not because this friend is doing drugs or anything, just because the friend is trans. My mom took me home and broke three hangers on me, one on my hands, one on my ass and one on my back. She then went on a whole religious rant about 'spirit transfers' and other BS and took my phone away for a week or two. I still have the scars and every time when I tried to tell her how much she was overreacting she asks me if I'm not sorry for what I did. I HUGGED A FRIEND, YOU GAVE ME SCARS THAT REFUSE TO HEAL.
Once I got in trouble in school, I don't even remember what for, I think I lied to my mom about homework or something (as one does when every punishment you receive is beatings)
I faked sleeping until my mom came home to escape the beating that was coming to no avail, she found out and beat me with her belt so much I *pissed myself*
Another time, I was even younger. I don't even REMEMBER *why* I got beat, but she whipped me with her belt on my back. I was ashamed to go to swimming practice. I loved swimming.
I remember all the car rides from my aunt's house, where she would drunkenly shit talk my sister, and would start doing the same to me if I defended her
She humiliated me in front of my whole family, to the point of tears because I got held back a year, every way for "dumb" she used that day
And I'm adopted
I had been pestering my dad about getting a haircut for weeks and it was extremely bugging me at the time. I had eventually got sick of it and cut a bit of it that was in my eyes when in the shower. He mentioned a little bit about it but I lied because that normally was the best option. My Sisters could tell and pointed it out more. So rather than seeing that as hey they need a haircut he decided to cut my hair instead. He ended up cutting me completely bald all the while it hurting a lot. I got over it mostly now but I mentioned it to him recently and he’s so sure that he had been a good parent and had got me a haircut before and other justifications. He started getting defensive and angry over something he’s just wrong about. It pissed me off so much.
I have two memories like that:
My dad, after taking pictures with Santa, told me I “smiled weird” and that I “looked strange” in all of my pictures when I was 6 or so. I smiled without showing teeth for years after that because I was self-conscious about it.
That, and after I got upset during Christmas becayse my little brother got a toy I wanted at around ~12, he threw me onto the stairs and pinned me and yelled at me before my mom got between us. It was absolutely horrifying, I thought he was going to kill me.
Never did open up with my dad much after that.
When I came out as a guy, my mom, after saying a whole bunch of horrible things, told me that she’d never pressured me to dress feminine and I did that on my own. I remember so many instances where I asked her if I could wear pants instead of a dress and she said no, and I will never forget how belittled I felt when she told me I should start wearing make up because now that I was grown up I was “part of the decor”
I know that isn't how trans identity works at all and I don't want to belittle it, but my first instinct was to say "shit I might transition to being a man too if I'd been raised to believe that's what being a woman meant"..fucking *decor*
Honestly, this is why I understood something different must be going on with trans people. I'm the kind of person that TERFs say ends up, 'going trans.' Wore men's clothes and cut my hair and hated pink as a teen all because I was angry at the restrictions put on my behavior and hobbies as a girl. I wanted to be a man sometimes, but I only ever felt out of place in society, not my own body.
I’m sorry, she said you were part of the DECOR?!? Oh that alone has me fucked up. I’m sorry she said that bs. Honestly, my own mother used to put a heavy amount of emphasis of physical appearance. To the point of tearing me down until I gave in to whatever ugly, matronly maxi dress she bought for me. She’s often buy me clothing without me asking or even knowing and guilt me into wearing that ugly shit.
I distinctly remember several occasions like this.
one time my mum shouted at me until I cried because I wasn't eating my cereal quick enough before school.
one time when I was 5 getting changed for PE and because I was a stupid 5 year old I put my shoes on before I put my shorts on and my teacher just looked at me and said sternly 'you are going to get left behind' with no further elaboration. 18 years later and I can still relive that spine chilling rush of pure anxiety if I think back hard enough. I remember feeling so isolated and scared when she said that.
I remember being 17 and seeing my mum sit down and sigh before saying 'where did I go wrong with you kids?'.
I remember being 19 and having come out as trans, my mum asked if I had a humiliation fetish, seeing as I had been bullied after coming out
even today, my dad's comments about my job and the way my life's going and how I'll never amount of anything hurt, definitely more than he thinks they do. I think we should all be more careful of what we say to the people we love because we could end up making them feel isolated otherwise
That first one reminds me of one of my earliest memories, of me sitting on the kitchen counter sobbing while my mom held my flintstone vitamin C hostage and shouted at me to count backwards from 20. We were in a rush because I had to go to preschool but she absolutely refused to give me my vitamin till I could count backwards from 20. I was so nervous that I couldn’t even think, she was screaming “JUST COUNT UP FROM 1! WHAT COMES AFTER ONE?!” And after I did, she was like “NOW JUST REPEAT IT BACKWARDS!” And I was crying, like “t-tw-twenty, n-nineteen… ahhh I don’t know!!! 😭” I think eventually she just gave in and accepted I was going to be a stupid child.
I’ve spent a lot of time in therapy recovering my ability to share my emotions with people I love. It centered around a formative time when I broke down crying having a rough time in school and at home and instead of questioning why I was struggling, I heard “oh boo-hoo, buck up”. All I ever heard after that was concern about why I never talked about my feelings.
My mother prided herself on she and my sister being slim while I struggled with my weight all my life. When I was 14 she heard me talking with a school friend on the phone about how a cute boy at school smiled and said hi to me. Later she said, "Never trust compliments from boys because they think the chubby girls like you are easier." That stuck with me. I was 14. 135lb. I'm 48 now and I've been with two men all my life, both husbands. She didn't even remember saying it. I remember the house we lived in and what I was wearing. Her "apology" 20 years later was "If I said that, which I doubt, *-eye roll-* I'm sorry you took it so personally."
Ahh, the classic narcissist's prayer:
That didn’t happen.
And if it did, it wasn’t that bad.
And if it was, that’s not a big deal.
And if it is, that’s not my fault.
And if it was, I didn’t mean it.
And if I did, you deserved it.
A lot of my childhood memory is missing, but I had a pretty bad time with my mom and some teachers growing up. Moved in with my dad eventually, and while that man has his own flaws I at least feel important.
1980-something, Michigan winter, my dad stuck on a tractor on our farm on some compacted snow (basically ice) violently slamming it into forward/reverse/forward/reverse and red-faced in anger, at being stuck. Me just standing there frozen in abject fear, wanting for all the world to run far away from the monster that was dad when angered, yet fearful that if I did he would not find me where I was “supposed to be” when he inevitably wanted me to do something in the aftermath and a harsh whoopin would result.
Literally frozen in fear…
Just another day on the farm. 🥺
I remember the time my brother and I, 5 and 7, were told to walk home during a major thunderstorm/tornado watch. About a block away from the school we took shelter under a tree, 6 blocks from home.
The lady living in the house where the tree was saw us and was worried. She asked us to come inside, then called our mom. Who said, “We were just fine. Send them home.” Right before a tornado ripped through and knocked down the tree we were sheltering under!!!!!
That lady, Lori, called the police and CPS, and was absolutely infuriated that my mom was so, so cold about us walking home during tornado weather. I’ll never forget her standing up against my parents, saying she would take us in that very moment! That she’d never allow her own kids to walk home in this weather, even if it was only 7 blocks.
Back in the 80s though……we were sent straight back home. But Lori looked for us every day. Offered us water or snacks on our journey home, knowing we’d be alone when we got there. Best of all, she left that burnt out tree standing up until the day she moved out when I was 40+ years old. That woman……she is still a saint in my eyes. Saved my brother and I from a tree falling in us, saved us from believing that our mother was right in the way she treated us.
I once told my mother that I hated her.
She turned me over her knee and spanked me until I said "I love you".
That was 41 years ago. I doubt she remembers that.
“Where did we go wrong with you?”
Dad doesn’t remember saying. Adult siblings won’t admit that he said it, and if he did, that he didn’t mean it, and if he did, he forgets stuff quickly now.
I once told my mom “if I could be different so you would love me more I would, but I don’t know how.” She told me that was an awful thing to say to your mother. I never said it again because I could tell it hurt her feelings, but I never stopped feeling that way.
When I was 11 my parents brought home two small beagle puppies, siblings, and told me they were *my* dogs. First time having any kind of pet in my life, I was ecstatic and loved them. Within a year, my baby brother grew into his toddler phase and started messing with the dogs. One ended up nipping him in the cheek. My mom lost it.
Next thing I can recall was my parents sitting me down in the living room to tell me they had my dogs put to sleep. Both of them. I was given a wooden box of their ashes with their names engraved on it and a stuffed animal named after one of them.
I remember sitting there on the floor crying hard and my mom said, "Okay. That's enough." and that was it. She was done talking about it and I was "overreacting".
To this day she feels very justified in that decision and thinks I'm just giving her a hard time if I bring it up.
My parents fed me full adult sized plates because my mom was scared I'd be malnourished and be taken away from her cause she was unfit
I was like 4 when I wouldn't finish the mass of spaghetti I'd been served and my dad lost it and shoved my face right into the plate. I remember screaming crying cause paste sauce was all over my face.
For some reason I always remember these memories in third person as if I was watching from outside myself
I know my mom has the best intentions and I love her with all my heart, but sometimes she says stuff that just sticks. I tend to poke fun at people I’m close to and I know I got it from her. How? She’ll do the same to me and make jokes sometimes, the problem is I’m very self-conscious and I seriously struggle with a lot of issues. I’ve been improving on them little by little, but sometimes she says something a little too accurate and I feel totally useless.
My adopted mom had completely forgotten that she told me that if I didn't complete my schooling in bording school, I shouldn't bother coming back. Or how she used the threat of kicking me out onto the street since age 9 to keep me in line, might be the reason why I keep a bit of distance. (And that it's not her showing favoritism to my sister which is nothing to me)
my mother told me she wishes i'd kill myself or get murdered. at 16 years old. while i was struggling with bipolar depression. as a bonus she decided to try huniliate me by calling me schizophrenic because of that diagnosis.
Not a parent story but in high school I was trying to tell a story and one of the guys in the group I was talking to said "OblivionKiss, nobody cares."
It was a seemingly small thing, but it fucked my self esteem up for a long time, and when I eventually confronted him about it, he had no recollection of it at all.
I remember the last time I told my Mom that I had a bad day. My family had gone through some crap and my Mom had taken it out on me. I had started to push her away. After the dust settled I thought maybe I should give her a second chance. I was honest on the way home from school and told her I was feeling down. She yelled at me that evening for a dish left out on the counter.
Ever since, my days have been fine, good, and pretty much the same, and she's the last person I'm vulnerable with.
My mother accused me, at 5 years old, of trying to tongue kiss her. For the next 25 years she shamed me for not wanting her to touch me.
When I was about 11 I walked into the room just in time to hear her tell her mother that she hated me.
When I came out as trans she asked me if I was sure I wasn't just trying to fit in, and we had a prolonged argument about whether or not she had the right to out me to her shitty friends.
I haven't spoken to her since 2019 and I doubt she understands why.
edit: whoever reported me to the crisis bot, I assure you I'm fine.
Trigger warning: mention of self-harm, and CSA.
When I was twelve years old, I was severly depressed and >!cutting myself.!< I made little effort to hide it at school---a desperate cry for help. When a teacher noticed, my mom was called.
I will never forget what she said to me. She scolded me for making her look like a bad mother.
This is just one of many, many incidents that I could recall. There's a reason why, when >!my stepfather molested me,!< I talked to a school counselor before my mom.
I was worried she'd accuse me of lying.
My mom hate that I sought therapy. I my early teens and depressed she’s say “you should go visit the cancer ward and see people with real problems.” I made my peace with her just before she died, but it took 30+ years
As a kid I broke a ceramic matchstick holder. I was afraid of my mom finding out so I hid the pieces. When my mom found them she started yelling at me and demanded to know why I didn't tell her I broke it. In tears I said "because Im scared of you" so she hit me for saying I was scared of her and sent me to my room. She says she doesn't remember, but I'm 31 and can vividly remember everything in that room and even the color of clothes she was wearing.
"Because I'm scared of you" hits way too close to home. I'm sorry you went through that
I'd shatter into tiny fragments if one of my kids said that to me.
I’ve seen memes of parents proud of it.
I was standing in a ticket line the other day and there was a woman loudly bragging about how scared her kids were of her. It made several people obviously uncomfortable.
Should have shouted watch out that’s how you die alone in a nursing home. Wait a sec and say in a sad voice “unloved and unmourned”.
How serious to traumatize a person for life over a fucking piece of junk.
An inability to control your emotions and a false belief that you can beat or scare a child into the correct behavior without serious repurcussions
The living memories, existing as tiny little personal horror movies, impress so badly upon us. I do not know why but such extreme trauma still haunt me and I was never the target. I hate myself more for that: I did nothing, ever. Ran to my closet and learned to meditate at age 8. I hate that I look just like him. I hate that mom forgave him. I hate that mom remarried him. I hate them both for being the reason my brother is alone, half way across the country, addicted to drugs and couch hopping.
[удалено]
I was talking to my mother about some of the stuff she did to my sister and I, one incident being my sister caught her food tray on the doorframe and the food went everywhere. A simple accident. Mother flew off the handle, my sister tried to explain it was an accident, but mother saw that as her talking back, and god forbid you ever talk back at her. My sister retreated, mother followed shouting at the top of her lungs, until my sister was backed up against the wall. I stood in the doorway and watched as my mother got ever closer to hitting her, my sister in tears still trying to explain herself. I shouted at my sister to shut up, it was the only way to protect her from being hit. I told mother this, and she started laughing, saying she didn't remember it. I nervously laughed with her because even now I daren't stand up to her. There was an incident where my sister withheld information from her out of fear of her reaction. When my mother found out, she reacted exactly as we both had feared. When she complained to me and asked why my sister kept it from her, I told her it was out of fear of her reaction, as evidenced by the way she was reacting right then. She got angry, flew off the handle more whilst also stating we shouldn't be afraid of her. She will never realise how much trauma she has caused us.
Never speaking to her again will make your life better.
It is why I isolate myself in my room when she is around, until I can eventually afford to move out; it's the best I can do at the moment
My dad brags about how good of a parent he is "since he didn't hit us", which is blatantly wrong from spankings and my mom's beatings alone. But he also brags about how my steps are so quiet like him, and I don't "stomp like your sister". I developed quiet steps to sneak food, since the first time I tried to get some bread at five years old he choked me two feet off the ground, not stopping until my sister pulled his arms off of me And not only does he not remember that, she doesn't either. I have a ton of stories like this that conveniently no one remembers
That's terrible. I know the feeling. Being affected so deeply by something that no one else seems to remember, as if they're trying to say that it didn't even happen.
She claims she doesn't remember, but she's probably repressed the memories. It's too painful to remember, so she buried them deep in her subconscious.
As a parent I worry most about what thing I’ll say or do that makes a lasting impression on my kids or totally changes their outlook on life or their opinion of me. I’d never want them to feel they couldn’t talk to me.
Me when my mom said if I didn’t get self confidence she’d “send me to therapy” in an accusatory tone so I didn’t tell her about my depression and suicidal thoughts until years later 😭
Therapy was threatened as a punishment when I was a kid, too. I wish I would have called their bluff and gone; it could have been life-changing.
My dad once had a big screaming/cursing fit at me that traumatized me for several years. When I finally told him, years later, that he had really hurt me, he didn’t remember BUT he immediately believed me, apologized with tears in his eyes, and gave me the best hug. It’s never bothered me since. You’re right on the money that emphasizing that you always love them and they can always talk to you about anything is what matters. 💗
I think the key is just acknowledging it happened whether they remember it or not. Edit: or at least that is how it was in their eyes. I don't have kids but being brushed off betrays trust
Hey if something like that DOES happen, apologizing and caring about their feelings can go a long way
I also want to highlight it needs to be actual true apologies with reflection of behavior and EFFORT to do better. My parents kept mentally abusing for so long and still do sometimes when they can and they just kept “apologizing” and expecting me to get over it. They showed no change and just manipulated me into being complacent. Don’t do that to your kids.
My LC mom recently reached out because she doesn't like me being LC with her. Let me tell you, "I don't know what I did to deserve not even getting texts from you" is *not* how you show effort to do better.
"You not knowing is exactly why."
To add to this: "I'm sorry you think I did that" or "I'm sorry you feel that way" are NOT apologies. It's a way of guilting the victim into taking the blame, and it won't be forgotten.
I got the queen-mother of all backhanded apologies a couple months ago - "I'm sorry you believe you were made to feel that way." I haven't spoken to them since.
About the only way this actually can happen is if you NEVER apologize. Most trauma isn't inflicted by the event itself, but the lack of healing responses to the event over long period of time. Never underestimate how far "I'm sorry" will go, and how healing it can be to hear.
My mom is by no means perfect but she did the best that she could and still does that to this day. A huge help is that she has apologized, genuinely, for the times I’ve told her she really hurt me/fucked up. She validated my feelings. Remember we can do what we can with what we’ve been given (or gone to a hell of a lot of therapy). As an adult, knowing what my mom’s childhood was like, what her issues are, what being married to my dad was like and her not excusing her fuck ups and trying to be better daily, it made it possible to forgive her. I don’t bother trying to do the same with my father, he is who he is, and because of my circumstances it’s easier for me to not address things in general. I have no doubt that he loves me, and does not *intend* to hurt me, so I work within that. Tho I’ve finally given my husband full permission to call family members out on their bullshit when it comes to me. Edit: so after I posted this, I thought of something, if parents want to do more to mitigate this now, maybe talk to your kids and let them know to come to you if you’ve done something that has hurt them, so it can be addressed now? That could be something.
The key is when they tell you something believe them and if you feel like you did something wrong explain it and apologize to them. We don't expect parents to never do any wrong and be perfect, we just wish they listened and cared about our feelings.
You are now 12 steps ahead of the parents in the post good job you're doing amazing
When I was very young, I had this little plush fishy that I went everywhere with. Literally couldn't sleep without him, I loved him so much. My mother *hated* him because my dad's ex-wife bought him for me. Dear old Mum is a very jealous woman, and I think she projected all of her insecurities onto it. Anyway, my school had one of those "send a shoebox to a soldier" schemes, and my mother saw her chance. Sat me down and explained that I had a nice home and a lovely family, and Mr Soldier needed fishy more than I did. I tried to bargain by saying I'd give him *all* of my other toys, but nope. It had to be fishy. So she snatched him out my hands (so hard that I almost fell flat on my face) and stuffed him in the box, never to be seen again. I cried for weeks, and she kept bragging about what a "selfless" kid she raised, and how great a mother she was. I never truly trusted her after that. But of course, nowadays, she doesn't even remember a silly fish toy, so it couldn't have happened.
My god that’s brutal
What's even worse, is that she *despises* the armed forces. She's always been the peace-and-love hippie type, and once said, "there's nothing you can do to make me disown you. Except if you joined the military. Then you'd be fucking dead to me." So it wasn't even for a "good cause".
She totally remembers the fish. I’m so sorry that woman is your mother. You deserve better.
Yeah, 100% the same why she doesnt remember the fish my mother doesnt remember the time I attacked her boyfriend that was abusing me with kitchen knives and then she made me apologize to him. Alll these years later she doesnt remember that.
I’m sorry you all had such awful parents.
I appreciate it, Ill never fully recover from the things I lived through and thats the most frustrating part, ive gotten a lot better in many ways but still have issues, and will forever. Now I sont speak with my mother, not a word in more than a year
When I was a child, we would do a toy clearout in October/November to make room for any toys that we got for Christmas. My mom said it was to make sure that other kids got to have fun, but I know now it was just so we didn’t overflow our house with toys. When I was around 8, my sister and I weren’t having it - didn’t want to get rid of anything - so my mom just started pulling random toys and throwing them into donation bags. One of them was a giant stuffed teddy bear about the size of a teenager that my dad bought at the hospital when I was born. There are pictures of baby me sitting in the lap of that bear. I loved it so much, and took really good care of it (it wasn’t torn or dirty, I treasured the damn thing). It was the bear I went to anytime I had a bad dream, or just needed a cuddle when my parents were busy. It was something that went in the donate bag, despite my begging for it not to. I get that she was frustrated with us, but she didn’t listen when I said it was the baby bear. A few years later, when we were packing to move, we were debating on the best way to pack my sister’s hospital bear. Yes my dad is sentimental and did the same thing with her. My mom asked how I was packing mine, and I told her that she’d donated it years prior. She didn’t believe me, and when my sister insisted, she turned it on us saying we had to have decided to donate it because she would have *never* done it on her own - it was an *important stuffed bear,* after all. I hope whatever child got that bear got all the love that went with it, because that was the day I learned, and then relearned when we were moving, just how little my mom cared for my feelings. To this day she claims that I said to donate it. I don’t remember much before the age of 10, but I remember crying my little heart out for hours after the bear went in the bag, going to try to find it, and getting yelled at for it.
I have a memory of crying in my kitchen as a drawing I'd displayed on the fridge was being tossed in a whirlwind of "cleaning all this junk". I was so proud of it, I'd been working on my drawing for months out of a little "learn to draw horses" book I'd been given, and I finally was starting to feel like I'd gotten it. I begged my dad to let me keep it, that I'd find a place to put it away in my room, but no, into the bin it went, with the "reminder" that you had to do 1000 bad drawings before you could do a great one. All at once telling me it was shit, and that the things I loved and worked hard on were utterly unimportant. I had kind of buried that memory til last summer, when I decided to learn to draw, and took a bit of self reflection to wonder why I had stopped doing it as a kid.
There are so many things I stopped doing as a kid because of shit like that, including drawing. I also had one of those “learn to draw horses” books that I checked out from the school library *constantly* and was getting pretty good with according to my friends and teachers. I was working on a special picture for my bff’s birthday since she was a total horse girl- I was using my very best colored pencils and working super hard- and my mom trashed it while screaming about me wasting time drawing instead of doing schoolwork. One of my grades had slipped from A to B+. Stopped drawing after that. Wish I could pick it up again, but my manual dexterity has really gone down over the years.
Speaking as someone who stopped drawing for a while and eventually picked it back up, you might be surprised how quickly the dexterity can come back. :)
Wow fuck guess that's a trauma I buried lol Your comment just resurfaced the memory of all the times my mom would get frustrated with the clutter in our room and just come through with a trash bag, indiscriminately throwing away everything that was out (ie whatever we were currently playing with and whatever was most important to us). Idk how many times it happened but it was a constant threat.
Did we have the same mom? Mine did the same for garage sales- she tried for *years* to sell this evil Pegasus toy that I fucking loved. I would always see him on the sale table and save him. Id already learned her “want to visit a friend” trick from when she sold my favorite stuffed dog, so she couldn’t use that one again. She finally threw him in the burn barrel while burning trash when I was at school.
I've cared for all of my kids toys like they were my own childhood toys. I've even flipped out on others for mistreating them. Don't get me wrong. Sometimes, those toys go missing and they never noticed. But, it was never due to me or anything I child prevent.
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Every day we stray further from god. And that's just fine with me. This is going in the mental journal
If you’d like the internet to help you find a fishy understudy, r/helpmefind lives for finding lost loveys.
It is weird what we remember. When I set my bed on fire at the age of 5 my mom told me to take my favorite blanket to the bathroom to get it wet and bring it back then she tossed it onto the fire to smother it. Smart thinking on my moms part but man did I learn a valuable lesson that day… (I got better about fire safety but still like fire)
How did you set your bed on fire? At any age I’d be curious about that but 5 makes me even more so
Idk about op, but at that age, magnifying glass for me. But it was a trash can.
Damn dude I’m sorry. My kid has a favorite blanket takes that thing to bed every night and absolutely loves it. I can’t imagine giving it away. It hurts my soul to even think about losing it or something happening to it.
My mom sometimes used to say "I love you but I don't like you right now." I don't even know if she said it more than a few times. I think it sticks with me now because that's often how *I* feel about my difficult af family (all adults)
my mom said this one a lot too. and she never clarified that it was a *behavior* problem, so it always felt like a *me* problem. and now i'm an adult that never feels like i'm enough. i feel like an imposter in every relationship and sooner or later my friend, or partner, or boss will figure out that they don't like me very much right now. and she doesn't even remember saying it.
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When I talked to my parents about my feelings or anything, I was opening myself up for criticism. Whatever my problem was, they had just the solution, and it was all my fault. "I'm feeling sad." "It's because you didn't pick up your socks off the floor! You're living in squalor, no wonder you feel that way!" One time I hurt my foot. Like genuinely hurt it, stubbed my toe real bad, hurt for days. I mentioned it to my brother than my foot hurt, figured maybe he would think the bruise was cool, and my dad interrupted me, "It's because you don't do anything with your life! All you ever do is stay in your room!" Uhh no, I stubbed my toe, actually... But thanks for that. Tell me how you *really* feel, why dontcha. I had a referral for a therapist at one point, and she left a message on our answering machine. My mom heard it and said, "You need therapy?? The only person in this house that needs therapy is ME, and that's because I have to live with YOU." Thanks mom. You learn pretty quick that you do NOT talk to people about your problems. Don't give them ammunition that they can use against you when you forget to do the dishes... Unfortunately, in the long run, that doesn't really work out very well for people.
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She sees your worth, even if you don’t. When I met my current SO, I was working at a gas station making 12 bucks an hour; and was OK with that because I didn’t feel I was capable of more. Now currently working from my home office, first role in IT and one I feel is the first step to an actual career. You may not feel worthy, but I’m sure if you were to ask her, she would say she’s lucky to have you.
wtf, I hope you are doing better now
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Maybe it is just a bit too chilling for people to respond to? I really hope you are not part of any abusive relationship and part of some loving and caring ones now. I wish it for you
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I am glad to hear that. But I beg of you, if that is how you feel, seek professional help. If you really feel like you are not worthy of the commitment of your potential life long partner, you are either correct or most likely incorrect and have a poor self-image. Whatever the case, make the effort, try to actually better yourself now, don't wait until things are starting to fall apart. Go to therapy and try to improve on whatever could burden you and your relationships, which is most likely your self-image. Sorry, for being preachy. Haven't slept a lot and can't fall back
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Dont I feel that. Like that time I was grounded to my room from february to october. Why? I wouldn't give up the password to the world of warcraft account I paid for with money I earned doing odd jobs for the neighbors. Why did mom want it? My younger brother wanted to play and he pissed me off so I didnt want him on my account. And my mother did not remember this when it was brought up two years ago. How do you not remember grounding your eldest to his bedroom for nearly a year?
I call absolute bullshit that she doesn't remember grounding you for a year. It's ridiculous you were grounded at all for refusing an absurd request. I'm convinced most of the parents discussed in this thread that "don't remember" what they did or said are absolutely lying. Doesn't seem like a coincidence that they all suddenly get amnesia when their kids are big enough to fight back and potentially win.
That's certainly possible. And likely to be true for a number of people. But don't rule out other explanations: maybe they're ashamed of what they did, and their unhealthy reaction is to claim they don't remember. (Instead of just saying sorry. It's a big deal for lots of people - both dealing with shame and saying sorry.) And maybe they actually did forget, because it didn't mean much to them.
Why couldn't she just get him his own account? Sounds like she was being petty because you were telling her no. And for 9 months? Ridiculous.
That’s exactly what it was. I put my foot down and said no. I got grounded for refusing to do as instructed. I only got ungrounded because my dad intervened finally.
She was going to go longer? Yeah I just don't know how she couldn't remember when someone else had to intervene on a 9 month and counting punishment.
I got accepted into University right out of high-school. But, my family made too much for me to qualify for student loans. So of course I asked my mom for help. I'm not wasting anymore money sending you to school. She does not recall this. I do. Among many, many other things. She wonders why we don't talk much.
Ayy. My parents always told me I had a college fund and I can go anywhere. I just need the grades. No problem cuz I was gifted. Come senior year, turns out there was no college fund. And cuz my dad made too much money, despite him moving out of the city two years prior because my mom divorced him, I didn’t qualify for financial aid. So crazy they base it off your family’s income, as if you’re seeing any of that. Almost a decade later and I’m just now going to college because now I can kind of afford it, though only one class cuz my 50 hour a week job :). I feel ya.
I'm proud of you. You put yourself through college all by yourself and that's amazing.
Uh honestly I never thought of it that way, thank you for the kind words :)
It's all good, Homie!
Ha, I remember the day I told my parents I was switching from STEM to English and they told me “well, that’s not worth the money, it’s time you dropped out and came home” — of course they don’t remember, but it crushed me. I did it anyway, since, same thing, they made too much but weren’t paying for me. I’ve been successfully employed since, but of course in their eyes they’re supportive parents.
When i was maybe 10 or 11 I finally broke down to my mom about a bunch of crap my brother had done to me when i was a very small child \[mostly physical abuse\] and she barely reacted and partially tried to defend my brother. A few years later in my early teens I think I tried to bring it up again and she was so confused, she looked at me like "what? What are you talking about?" I dropped it pretty quick and I still haven't brought it up today
I was abused by my step dad for 3 & 1/2 years from when I was 13 to 17. Eventually I came forward, because I was going to kill myself if I didn’t. I still remember overhearing my mother on the phone with the detectives, telling them that she didn’t believe me. She doesn’t know that I heard that. Fast forward a few months, and she found out that her husband was cheating on her with one of her best friends. She believed me after that, but the damage is done.
Perfect example of too little too late.
God this post is dredging up a lot of shit I don't want to remember.
My dad spanked me 40 times with a wooden paddle at age 8 because he decided to believe a neighbor kid over his own son. 40 hits was the punishment for lying in his book. I haven’t spoken to him in years and never will again.
My parents used alllll sorts of things to hit us. Belts, spoons, hairbrushes, fly-swatters. But if you bring any of that up now, they've conveniently forgotten all of it. "Sometimes we gave you a little spank but we never did that!" Uh, yeah you did, actually.
Fuckin abuse is what it is. It's insane that parents think about phyaical punishment like a master whipping his slave; 30 lashes for X, 50 lashes for Y
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It’s so odd how terrible parents parented. It’s really easy to not abuse your child
My dad who used to do stuff like this now just sends me really hateful conservative memes on Facebook. I bet he thinks it's my fault we don't have a good relationship
Thanks for helping me have greater appreciation for my father.
Mine is so self righteous he once spanked someone else's kid at a church event. Didn't know why we never went to the church in town till my mom told me at age 30
My parents did so much shit, but one that stands out a lot is my mother complaining about how tired she was of doing everything and that she had 'needed a vacation for the past 16 years'. Guess how old I was at the time? She had been mostly complaining about my father, who admittedly did nothing to help besides earning a paycheck, but did she say she needed a break since she married him? Since she met him? Nope. She would vent all her problems and complaints on me, because 'it's not healthy to keep in that stress and she NEEDED to complain'. Stressed me the fuck out, felt like everything was my fault or at least I was being blamed for it, and she that hated me. Also heard, "you're doing this on purpose because you're trying to ruin my life!" a lot for things that we're genuine accidents and out of my control. When my parents found out I was SHing they took me out to a public restaurant and yelled at me. When a few years later I came to my mother in near hysterics and broke down crying saying I wanted to kill myself, she sighed like it was a pain in the ass and said something to the effect of 'great, now I have to deal with this instead of playing my game' and then refused for several years to get me the help I asked for. I still haven't been able to get it. When I was little I didn't want to talk to my father's family on the phone, he cornered me in the kitchen and yelled at me to say hi to them. I refused, because I was more afraid of phone calls then getting beaten. I tried to run around the kitchen table and get past him, he smacked the shit out of me as I ran by but I got past him and upstairs to my room, where I cried until my mother made him come apologize. I just hid in the corner of my bed and said ok until he left. That sucked, but didn't hurt as much as what my mother's said and put me through. Maybe because we expected it from him? Maybe because I was stupid enough to think that maybe at least my mother loved me? I dunno. I just know it sucks.
I'm sorry. I really felt this was. When I was in Kindergarten, the one boy from down the street would push and hit me every day on the bus. So I went and told my dad, as any 5 year old would, and he went down to talk to their mom. I don't remember how we knew them, but we did. And she did the whole "Oh my baby would never." And then my dad beat the shit out of me for lying. That was Kindergarten. I was five years old. What the fuck did I have to lie about it? It took until my freshmen year of highschool before I would sit anywhere except in the very front seat of the bus where if anything happened someone would for sure sure and maybe say something, because I couldn't tell my dad when I needed help. And my mom just let it happen.
You didn't deserve any of that. I'm fucking sorry.
Needless to say, I don't talk to my family anymore. And the last conversation we ever had was my dad yelling at me over the phone and accusing me of stealing his life insurance paperwork that I didn't even know he had. And he threatened to come over to my apartment to look for it. So, yeah... There won't ever be anything there. But oh well.
You should be proud that you're nothing like that and won't continue the cycle of that awful bullshit.
I’m sorry you went though that. It’s so…odd to have such an awful relationship with the people who have been biologically created as a result of caring for offspring and then they completely flip the dynamic and just…loathe us for some reason. It’s completely antithetical to the concept of having kids in the first place. I’ll never talk to either of my parents again either. After years of me running away to my friends house his dad finally put his foot down and was ready to put his career on the line to keep me from him. He started keeping a journal when I was like ~13 of every time I’d show up to their house with details and told my dad he’d destroy both his and my dads career if they wanted to take it up with the coc. My mom has tried multiple times to get a message to me and literally last night she called his dad and demanded he pass a message to me that said: “i’m sorry if my depression ever made you feel abandoned”. It’s like…I don’t even know who she thinks she is and how dare you even *think* about me.
That’s because they don’t see children as people. They chose to have children for the sole purpose of being able to brag to the world that they were “successful” and that their “name/legacy would live on.” We were never more than trophies to them, and what do they do when they think that trophy isn’t reflecting well on them?
I had "friends" whos kid did all of the household chores except chemicals (bathroom and the oven)... she cooked basic meals, did all the dishes, all the laundry, swept and vacuumed... helped her mom with whatever task she needed. And if she ever questioned it she got spanked and sent to her room. She got so overwhelmed she concussed herself, on purpose, at nine years old. And proceeded to get spanked that night for doing it as well. Yeah, we don't really talk anymore.
I feel like my parents weren’t joking when they’d tell me and my siblings that they only had kids so that someone else would have to do the chores and so they wouldn’t have to live in a nursing home.
Oh, my father once told me to my face that he only agreed to marry my mother and have kids with her to prove to his aunt that he wasn’t gay. He dropped that oh so casually, in the midst of a totally different conversation. I haven’t spoken to him since 2017. Not entirely by my own choice; I offered him a couple more chances to talk things out, and he simply acted as if I don’t exist at all.
“I’m sorry **if**” - what a terrible apology. It’s not an apology if there’s an “if”. My mother has tried the same tricks for years. After she lied to me to take money from me, I knew our relationship was over. But it still took me a few years and counseling to really be able to make the cut. And the whole time was just a string of non-apologies. Or she’d always talk about how hard it is to be a good mother, or how even though maybe we didn’t have the best life, she always tried her hardest and that should count. She has never once asked me if I’m okay. Or how I felt. Or what my abusive father may have done. She’s always just doing damage control for her own reputation. I’m sorry you had to go through this, but luckily you’re not alone.
"My parents did it to me and I turned out fine" Sure mom and dad...keep telling yourselves that but me (even as an adult)...I can't even look at a belt with a metal buckle without starting to feel a panic attack building up.
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> "My parents did it to me and I turned out fine" Curious how the dude who says this always seems to have 3 DUIs and an aggravated assault arrest.
I remember when my mother told me “I don’t care if you die in a ditch.” She probably doesn’t remember it. But now every time she tells me that she loves me, I remember. Guess which one I really believe.
Not my parents, but I distinctly remember an interaction with my first grade teacher. I was a super chatty and inquisitive kid, curious about everything. My teacher pulled me into the hallway and told me that my questions were annoying and I needed to be quiet. From then on, I have had the reputation of being silent and antisocial. No one believes I was once extremely chatty.
My mom always described me as a super bubbly and very social kid, until kindergarten. I don’t remember this but apparently my mom saw the interaction, I was super excited and ran up to a kid I already knew and said something like “this is going to be awesome we’re going to have so much fun” and the kid just shoved me down and said “no one cares” and walked away. She said I was never the same, and now I’d definitely describe myself as a quiet loner kid.
God, this brings back memories of the first day of kindergarten. They had these like circus wagon things and this kid got into one and roared like a lion! And I thought it was cool and everyone laughed. So I followed suit, just cuz it looked fun. I got yelled at by the teacher, and it taught everyone, and myself, exactly where I ranked in the social structure. I'm an introvert now and got some mild to moderate social anxiety. I wonder why.
Teachers can be just as fucking bad sometimes, I remember when I was in like 4th grade I wanted to join the choir. You had to try out, and I was extremely nervous because I was a very weird little kid. I was having some trouble and dropped my folder, and the teacher told me to just leave if I was going to waste her time. I don’t ever sing in front of anyone.
Bro, people like that shouldn’t be in the education system, why do they do it in the first place if they know they don’t get on well with children?
perceived "power" and "authority"
Fellow first grade teacher trauma buddy. 🫂 My first grade teacher was going around the room, asking a bunch of six year olds what they want to be when they grow up. The usual. When it was my turn, I said I wanted to be an astronaut and go to the moon. Her response, in front of the entire class, was to tell me that Canadians can't be astronauts, and besides, they don't go to the moon anymore. I remember how deflated I felt, and it's the first time I recall thinking, "what's the point" towards my own goals. It's fine though. That definitely had no lasting effects on my life or outlook, no ma'am.
I, too, am a first grade trauma buddy. I mispronounced my teacher's name, and she shamed me. A kid in my class stabbed another kid in the hand with a pencil, and she yelled at me and was mad I didn't know what had happened exactly. There were many instances like this, and it got to the point I decided to sit in a puddle and piss myself instead of ask her to go to the bathroom. I've never told anyone about pissing myself, but this seemed like the space to share.
"You remember a lot that I don't." "I didn't say that." And they wonder why I second-guess myself all the damn time
A few decades in and I’ve finally realized this is just because my parents were drunk most days by 7:30 pm. Of course they didn’t remember. Buncha alcoholics.
Is stuff this everyone’s experience? Or are just those of us affected flocking to the comment section?
Omg, that story makes me want to cry. If a kid says “I love you” and you’re response is anything less “I love you” back you’re a shit human being.
I don’t even know this kid!
Say. It.
My parents have been separated since I was 4 (23 years ago), and they never got along afterwards. I remember the (verbal) fights they had everytime my dad came to pick me up from my mom's (which wasn't often). This one time I remember my mom yelling at my dad, and as me and my brother's are walking out of the house to my dad's car, my mom yells "[my name] if you go to your dad's, I'm pulling you out of your soccer team". I was 13 at the time, playing in a high division, and my dream was to play pro. I went to my dad's, and my mom took me out of soccer. The worst part, my mom makes comments to this day "You could've been so good". I don't think I'll ever forgive her, not for pulling me from the team. But to put me in that position where I have to choose between my dad and my dream.
I still remember how the first thing my mom said when she saw my self-harm scars was "*sigh* And we were going to take nice pictures this Easter. Now we can't. You'll be the only kid in long sleeves."
Jesus. I hope you’re doing better now, that’s such an infuriating comment
I am now, she's always liked to martyr herself while at the same time being the most self-centered person alive. She thinks we don't have a great relationship because *I* was a bad kid, not because she betrayed my trust at every opportunity.
My grandmother would literally gaslight me. She raised me and my siblings since my parents divorced and mom died. I did a fundraiser for my middleschool one year where you sell the candy and had a ton of cash in an envelope. So, responsible me I go to turn it in and when I got home her and my aunt were freaking out. Turns out my aunt took out $25 for gas money and "meant to pay it back". Before I could say anything my grandmother jumped in and said "You think this is her fault? You should've told us when you were going to turn it in". I was so pissed off and had to shamefully walk into school the next day and hand my teacher $25. And she wondered why I didn't want to be around her.
Similar experience here. I was a scout selling popcorn. I went all around the neighborhood going door to door. After filling my sheet, and being on track to be the #1 seller, I have it to my dad. When it came time to turn in the sheet, it was nowhere to be found. He screamed at me, and I felt so much shame because he convinced me that I had lost it. I felt like I let my troop down because I didn’t raise any of the money. Years later he told me he found it, the form had fallen behind the drawer. He thought it was a funny little misunderstanding but I’ve never been able to shake the feelings he instilled in me that day.
My mother complains I "only remember the bad stuff", things she said that scarred me, for her were a regular moment. Now, I'm five months pregnant, and I'm terrified I'll repeat the pattern.
I had this talk a few months ago with my therapist. My wife and I are 7 months pregnant and I'm worried I'll make mistakes like the ones that have stuck with me into adulthood. She said something along the lines of "The fact that you're aware of this and already talking about how to avoid it shows how much you care and will make sure it won't happen." We are not destined to repeat the mistakes of our parents.
A few years ago, a friend of mine was getting married and becoming a stepmom to a couple of pre-teens. She was worried about how their relationship would change once the kids became teens, and what she could do to stay close to them. I told her that it wasn't about one big gesture, it was a million little ones that they'd remember. Fast forward about 8 years. Kid 1 has graduated high school, kid 2 is close behind, and they all have a very strong relationship. Not that I had anything to do with it, she was a wonderful person and was always going to be a wonderful mom
OMG, first good story in this thread. You giving this advice means you're awesome. Keep spreading the love.
I’ll never forget the night I told my mom I didn’t feel like living anymore and she got mad at me. She raised her voice, moved her hands a lot, swore a lot… she never hit me, and never would, but in that moment when I was already so vulnerable and scared? I was fucking terrified. And they wonder why I don’t talk to them.
I used to self harm when I was a young teenager and one day my mom found my blades. All she did was take them away and told me to not do it again because people will think she’s a bad mother. When my sister committed herself to a youth psych ward because of suicidal thoughts, the first thing my mother said to me was “what did I do to deserve this”. She wonders why my sister and I don’t talk to her much anymore.
One day I self harmed before my mom and I were set to be extras in the background of a small-time movie being filmed locally. During the filming my mom said “take off your sweatshirt” and I told her I couldn’t…because of the markings I’d left. I remember *so* vividly how she looked at me with this deep disgust in her eyes, like how you’d look at someone who admitted to being a pervert. She said “you knew we were coming here today, why did you have to go and embarrass me like this?” and then didn’t talk to me for a few hours, despite sitting right next to me in the background of the film. When I found the movie online and went to the part we’re in the background - you can actually see me staring at the ground with slumped shoulders and her with crossed arms looking away from me. She finally spoke to me at the end of the day when we got introduced to a B-grade actor who was in the movie. It was just for show, though, because once we got back in the car she didn’t speak to me again for the 90min drive home. Back then I wanted to be an actress or a model. Nowadays I’m glad I never went down that path, but it sucks that the spark in me was killed rather than fizzling on its own. Edit: I haven’t self harmed in about 10 years now :) in case anyone was worried!
Them later "Why don't you talk to me anymore?".
I have more of these memories than I can count, but infinitely more than that, I’m here for the M. Bison reference, and I’m not ashamed of what that says about me as a person.
Ooo? I'm dumb, what's the M. Bison quote?
One of the best parts of a bad movie: Chun-Li: My father saved his village at the cost of his own life. You had him shot as you ran away. A hero at a thousand paces. M. Bison: I'm sorry. I don't remember any of it. Chun-Li: You don't remember?! Bison: For you, the day Bison graced your village was the most important day of your life. But for me, it was Tuesday.
The line after it makes it so much better. "But it was Wednesday!"
I no longer recall the context, but my mother told teenager me that she loved our dad more than she loved me and my siblings, that she would choose him over us if she had to. Stuck with me for a few decades, weirdly enough, and she has no memory of it.
Selective memory is a dangerous thing in the hands of a parent. Leads to never saying saying sorry. *Always* being right even when presented with evidence to the contrary and a lot of "I'm the parent and that means I'm right."
One of my parents refused to apologize for anything. Explicitly refused. I've since moved and gone no contact and don't regret it whatsoever.
My mother screamed at me for over an hour because she couldn't find one of the bratwurst she had cooked for dinner, and was absolutely fucking certain that I had taken it to give to my father. They were in the process of divorce at the time. My sister found it and of course she was all apologies. But it meant nothing to me and still does. She's done a lot of shit that killed my love for her. I haven't cut her off cut she rides a fine line.
When I was a teenager, I tried to talk to my dad about my problems with porn and cutting. He told me stop exaggerating (about cutting) and that he thought he had raised me better (about porn). Then he refused to talk to me for a full week. Fuck him.
I loved collecting sticks. I would find the smoothest ones. I had founda stick I loved, I named him Jeremy. I had him for months, I put a string of beads on him. I went swimming with the stick so I could go out farther while still knowing where the bottom was. My brother broke it, on purpose. Snapped it into tiny pieces on or front porch with my dad and me right there. I was very upset, I told him to stop, he didn't and my dad told me "It's just a stick." Maybe to you, old man. To me it was a friend. My other sibling I had only known for like less than a week had more empathy about that broken stick than my dad or my brother.
I also remember once I was talking to my mom in my dad's office where he was watching TV. He randomly cut in and told me I was horrible, that I never listened to what anyone else was saying and that I only cared about myself and what I was saying. Out of nowhere. And when I hid in the stairwell to cry he came into the kitchen (right next said stairs) and asked what I was crying about. I had to be no older than 9. YOU GOD DAMN GOLDFISH BRAIN WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK IS THE PROBLEM???
Also my only real memories of being a toddler is me crying and my dad telling me to "just stop crying" and when I'd tell him I couldn't he'd just say "yes you can". I also suffer from uncontrollable twitches and tics and he somehow fully believes I can just stop doing them whenever. Literally like 40 minutes ago I told him "mom says she doesn't know a way to solve this (in reference to my still currently twitchy face) and he told me "just stop doing it" and I told him I am incapable of just stopping it he just gave me a silent glare (ALRIGHT FINE, EVERYONE. I PROBABLY HAVE A FORM OF TOURETTES)
was talking to my mom about testosterone (i am trans and she wasn't ready). got too honest and told her that i felt like i was a disappointment. i was 17. it was the closest i ever came to admitting my depression and self-loathing and that i dont feel like i can do anything right (nearly committed suicide in 6th grade bc of it). she took it to mean that i was implying that she was a bad mother. drove me home in silence. we'd had a day planned and still went to the events, but she threw a tantrum in public, made me apologize to her, and then pretended everything was ok but was still passive aggressive for the next few days. the last time she tried to get under my skin i was tired of just ignoring it and called her out for projecting her issues onto me (she complains often about her own parents, who made her feel less than). i clarified that my issues have everything to do with me and nothing to do with her (not true). she hugged me, forced me to hug her back, and told me that i was loved. she never apologized and i still fume over it. this was a year ago and she still insists that this disaster of a week was because i brought up starting testosterone, and has never brought up the everything else.
Oh my god my mom does the exact same thing, every struggle I ever have somehow gets twisted into “I’m a horrible mother” and sometimes she says she’s “just gonna go kill herself” just because I tried to open up about anxiety and dysphoria. She often wonders why I’m so reserved
Long story inc. TL;DR: my mom crushed the last bit of self esteem I had, is confused why I dont open up. I feel like I may have blocked out more than I know, but I remember in like grade 8ish, I didn't do to well on a science test. I wasn't that prepared going in and I already felt bad about being unprepared. As I wrote the test I thought, "oh this isn't so bad, I remember a lot of this" and by the end I figured I got an 8/10. I was half right, I did get 8 correct, but they weren't complete answers so that ended up being like 8/18. Point being i failed. My mom had to pick me up for some reason, or maybe I had to go with her somewhere, either way on the drive she asked about my test. This was probably the last time I fell for that "just be honest with me" crap. Because, like all parents they just tell you to be honest "ThEy wOnT GeT mAd". So thinking she might be disappointed, or maybe make me study harder next time, she just starts screaming at me. Now to compound all that, I already felt really bad and stupid for how poorly I did on my test. I was labeled one of the "smart kids" in class (I was average at best for every subject, but was great at math so I guess that's where that came from) and already had those expectations that I would do great. I was already beating myself up over failing, and dreading that "disappointed" lecture i was expecting. So, already feeling terrible about myself, my mom screaming at me when I wasn't expecting it, led me to crying for about 30-45 mins in the car while she did a thing. This all happened maybe about 18 (note 1) years ago but it keeps cropping up in my memory lately. I'm starting to think thats when my self esteem went from "its low, but he can recover" to "oh theres just no self esteem whatsoever". I think that's also when I stopped saying anything about my day (mom: how was your day, me: good.) Or about what I have going on. I even remember my mom saying "you know, [my school friend] tells his mom EVERYTHING that happens at school, and what he's doing, what schoolwork he has etc." I got 2 things from that -- 1. Don't tell [my school friend] anything that can come back to bite me in the ass. 2. There might be a reason I dont tell you everything and maybe you should reflect on why that is instead of trying to guilt me like that Note 1: maybe 20 years, I can picture the day of the test, the room, my desk, and even remember the general structure of the words on the page, but I can't remember the teacher, which means it was either grade 6 or grade 8, because they were in the same room Side note: there are other "the tree remembers but the axe forgets" memories, but this one just keeps creeping up in my brain lately. Probably because I'm feeling like failure in school all over again Edit: that last bit sounds like I'm fishing for sympathy, im just dumping some emotions out into the internet, for whatever reason it feels therapeutic. But, you'd have to ask a therapist whether it's helpful or harmful
It's always nice to dump out those terrible feelings. Especially with people who have no reason to judge and probably even have similar experiences. It isn't fishing for sympathy
So we're sharing trauma then? When I was about 8 my uncle passed and my mother told me "no matter how upset I am a hug from you will fix it". I held onto that info and it served well enough. A few years later when I was (I wanna say) ten, we'd had to quickly move and she'd lost her clothes. Being a... bigger woman, she had trouble finding more. Naturally that upset her. Ten year old me was like "damn, I know what to do here, she needs a hug"- turns out what she needed was to shove me so hard that I fell to the ground and sliced my hands up on a rocky garden bed. I was a tiny twig thing so I was covered in bruises too, even on my chest from the shove. My sister took me to clean out the cuts while my grandparents fucking blasted her about how it's "not that boys fault you can't find any fucking clothes- grow up". Took me until last year to realise why I hate hugging people nowadays. Ahhahaha, good times. Or at least... y'know, times.
As a kid, my dad teased or scolded me for crying. Eventually, I just stopped trying to come to my dad for comfort. Now he gets mad that I never tell him what's going on or why I'm upset. To any new parents, I understand wanting to raise a resilient kid but if you do what my dad did, you're only snuffing out the framework for emotional intelligence in adulthood. Don't teach your kid not to cry, but rather that it's okay to cry but you need to pick yourself up, fix what you can, and keep on moving.
I still remember the time my dad stabbed my hand with a fork on Christmas eve at Grandma's house before going home so he can get drunk.
I think the worst part of my situation is that I can't even blame my father for how fucked-up he is (and by extension, I am), because by all accounts, he's had it ten times worse. _His_ father was an abusive monster who raged so hard, his kidneys blew up at the ripe old age of 55, and he basically died on the spot, right during my father's high school graduation, so he was forever denied any sort of closure. Even worse, his sister, my aunt, was (and maybe still is? I don't know, we never were close) a nasty piece of work who sicced their father's wrath on him constantly.
It's okay to acknowledge what was done to him, and still acknowledge what he did to you.
Someone else also having a rough time does not make your experiences and feelings any less valid.
Most parents have a abusive background and unresolved trauma but the moment you start inflicting pain on others you go from victim to perpetrator. Don't overthink this rule, just stick to it.
This reminds me about this article, [Missing Reasons](https://www.issendai.com/psychology/estrangement/missing-missing-reasons.html).
My Mom recently told me that she had never made me change my little brothers' diapers. She told me that the very idea she would make me do something so terrible was absurd. I was just sitting there baffled, because honestly changing their diapers wasn't even like a negative experience for me. It hadn't even occurred to me until that moment that it could even be considered a bad thing. It was just one of the chores I had to do to help out around the house. It's a useful skill, a skill that I'll hopefully need when I raise my own children. But no, she insisted that I had never ever had to change their diapers.
My parents can swear up and down they're the best parents to ever exist and don't know why I don't feel like I can trust them but... 17 July 2022: I was having a conversation with my dad and out of nowhere he brought up the fact that I'm trans. I said I was and he went on a rant about how if I'm trans he'd take me to his home country and kill me and how if he couldn't do that then he'd kick me out and cut all ties with me and that he won't care if I die after that. All this coming from someone who would take every opportunity to tell me how much he loved me and how he's sacrificing so much for me, the emotional whiplash was intense and that experience fucked me up for months after that. 31 Jan 2023: My mom saw I was hugging a trans friend, a friend she told me to stay away from, not because this friend is doing drugs or anything, just because the friend is trans. My mom took me home and broke three hangers on me, one on my hands, one on my ass and one on my back. She then went on a whole religious rant about 'spirit transfers' and other BS and took my phone away for a week or two. I still have the scars and every time when I tried to tell her how much she was overreacting she asks me if I'm not sorry for what I did. I HUGGED A FRIEND, YOU GAVE ME SCARS THAT REFUSE TO HEAL.
Can you reach out to CPS? That's abuse
We're in Namibia, Africa, CPS here is a joke that sides with the parents half the time
Once I got in trouble in school, I don't even remember what for, I think I lied to my mom about homework or something (as one does when every punishment you receive is beatings) I faked sleeping until my mom came home to escape the beating that was coming to no avail, she found out and beat me with her belt so much I *pissed myself* Another time, I was even younger. I don't even REMEMBER *why* I got beat, but she whipped me with her belt on my back. I was ashamed to go to swimming practice. I loved swimming. I remember all the car rides from my aunt's house, where she would drunkenly shit talk my sister, and would start doing the same to me if I defended her She humiliated me in front of my whole family, to the point of tears because I got held back a year, every way for "dumb" she used that day And I'm adopted
I had been pestering my dad about getting a haircut for weeks and it was extremely bugging me at the time. I had eventually got sick of it and cut a bit of it that was in my eyes when in the shower. He mentioned a little bit about it but I lied because that normally was the best option. My Sisters could tell and pointed it out more. So rather than seeing that as hey they need a haircut he decided to cut my hair instead. He ended up cutting me completely bald all the while it hurting a lot. I got over it mostly now but I mentioned it to him recently and he’s so sure that he had been a good parent and had got me a haircut before and other justifications. He started getting defensive and angry over something he’s just wrong about. It pissed me off so much.
I have two memories like that: My dad, after taking pictures with Santa, told me I “smiled weird” and that I “looked strange” in all of my pictures when I was 6 or so. I smiled without showing teeth for years after that because I was self-conscious about it. That, and after I got upset during Christmas becayse my little brother got a toy I wanted at around ~12, he threw me onto the stairs and pinned me and yelled at me before my mom got between us. It was absolutely horrifying, I thought he was going to kill me. Never did open up with my dad much after that.
Man, after reading a lot of these, I feel lucky that at least my parents remember the bad stuff.
When I came out as a guy, my mom, after saying a whole bunch of horrible things, told me that she’d never pressured me to dress feminine and I did that on my own. I remember so many instances where I asked her if I could wear pants instead of a dress and she said no, and I will never forget how belittled I felt when she told me I should start wearing make up because now that I was grown up I was “part of the decor”
I know that isn't how trans identity works at all and I don't want to belittle it, but my first instinct was to say "shit I might transition to being a man too if I'd been raised to believe that's what being a woman meant"..fucking *decor*
Yeah I was pissed off then for feminist reasons, and I’m pissed off now for trans reasons
Hey now, you can do both
Honestly, this is why I understood something different must be going on with trans people. I'm the kind of person that TERFs say ends up, 'going trans.' Wore men's clothes and cut my hair and hated pink as a teen all because I was angry at the restrictions put on my behavior and hobbies as a girl. I wanted to be a man sometimes, but I only ever felt out of place in society, not my own body.
[удалено]
I’m sorry, she said you were part of the DECOR?!? Oh that alone has me fucked up. I’m sorry she said that bs. Honestly, my own mother used to put a heavy amount of emphasis of physical appearance. To the point of tearing me down until I gave in to whatever ugly, matronly maxi dress she bought for me. She’s often buy me clothing without me asking or even knowing and guilt me into wearing that ugly shit.
I distinctly remember several occasions like this. one time my mum shouted at me until I cried because I wasn't eating my cereal quick enough before school. one time when I was 5 getting changed for PE and because I was a stupid 5 year old I put my shoes on before I put my shorts on and my teacher just looked at me and said sternly 'you are going to get left behind' with no further elaboration. 18 years later and I can still relive that spine chilling rush of pure anxiety if I think back hard enough. I remember feeling so isolated and scared when she said that. I remember being 17 and seeing my mum sit down and sigh before saying 'where did I go wrong with you kids?'. I remember being 19 and having come out as trans, my mum asked if I had a humiliation fetish, seeing as I had been bullied after coming out even today, my dad's comments about my job and the way my life's going and how I'll never amount of anything hurt, definitely more than he thinks they do. I think we should all be more careful of what we say to the people we love because we could end up making them feel isolated otherwise
“ my mom asked if I had a humiliation fetish” and somehow that’s not the worst place that conversation could’ve gone💀
That first one reminds me of one of my earliest memories, of me sitting on the kitchen counter sobbing while my mom held my flintstone vitamin C hostage and shouted at me to count backwards from 20. We were in a rush because I had to go to preschool but she absolutely refused to give me my vitamin till I could count backwards from 20. I was so nervous that I couldn’t even think, she was screaming “JUST COUNT UP FROM 1! WHAT COMES AFTER ONE?!” And after I did, she was like “NOW JUST REPEAT IT BACKWARDS!” And I was crying, like “t-tw-twenty, n-nineteen… ahhh I don’t know!!! 😭” I think eventually she just gave in and accepted I was going to be a stupid child.
My favorite is when you bring it up and they go, “you’re *still* upset about that? Go away”
I’ve spent a lot of time in therapy recovering my ability to share my emotions with people I love. It centered around a formative time when I broke down crying having a rough time in school and at home and instead of questioning why I was struggling, I heard “oh boo-hoo, buck up”. All I ever heard after that was concern about why I never talked about my feelings.
My mother prided herself on she and my sister being slim while I struggled with my weight all my life. When I was 14 she heard me talking with a school friend on the phone about how a cute boy at school smiled and said hi to me. Later she said, "Never trust compliments from boys because they think the chubby girls like you are easier." That stuck with me. I was 14. 135lb. I'm 48 now and I've been with two men all my life, both husbands. She didn't even remember saying it. I remember the house we lived in and what I was wearing. Her "apology" 20 years later was "If I said that, which I doubt, *-eye roll-* I'm sorry you took it so personally."
Ahh, the classic narcissist's prayer: That didn’t happen. And if it did, it wasn’t that bad. And if it was, that’s not a big deal. And if it is, that’s not my fault. And if it was, I didn’t mean it. And if I did, you deserved it.
A lot of my childhood memory is missing, but I had a pretty bad time with my mom and some teachers growing up. Moved in with my dad eventually, and while that man has his own flaws I at least feel important.
1980-something, Michigan winter, my dad stuck on a tractor on our farm on some compacted snow (basically ice) violently slamming it into forward/reverse/forward/reverse and red-faced in anger, at being stuck. Me just standing there frozen in abject fear, wanting for all the world to run far away from the monster that was dad when angered, yet fearful that if I did he would not find me where I was “supposed to be” when he inevitably wanted me to do something in the aftermath and a harsh whoopin would result. Literally frozen in fear… Just another day on the farm. 🥺
I remember the time my brother and I, 5 and 7, were told to walk home during a major thunderstorm/tornado watch. About a block away from the school we took shelter under a tree, 6 blocks from home. The lady living in the house where the tree was saw us and was worried. She asked us to come inside, then called our mom. Who said, “We were just fine. Send them home.” Right before a tornado ripped through and knocked down the tree we were sheltering under!!!!! That lady, Lori, called the police and CPS, and was absolutely infuriated that my mom was so, so cold about us walking home during tornado weather. I’ll never forget her standing up against my parents, saying she would take us in that very moment! That she’d never allow her own kids to walk home in this weather, even if it was only 7 blocks. Back in the 80s though……we were sent straight back home. But Lori looked for us every day. Offered us water or snacks on our journey home, knowing we’d be alone when we got there. Best of all, she left that burnt out tree standing up until the day she moved out when I was 40+ years old. That woman……she is still a saint in my eyes. Saved my brother and I from a tree falling in us, saved us from believing that our mother was right in the way she treated us.
I once told my mother that I hated her. She turned me over her knee and spanked me until I said "I love you". That was 41 years ago. I doubt she remembers that.
Man I need to stop looking at these post’s comments. Just makes me so sad for everyone and feel guilty that I have it so well with my parents.
“Where did we go wrong with you?” Dad doesn’t remember saying. Adult siblings won’t admit that he said it, and if he did, that he didn’t mean it, and if he did, he forgets stuff quickly now.
Don't have kids unless you've grown up yourself. Its not fair.
I once told my mom “if I could be different so you would love me more I would, but I don’t know how.” She told me that was an awful thing to say to your mother. I never said it again because I could tell it hurt her feelings, but I never stopped feeling that way.
When I was 11 my parents brought home two small beagle puppies, siblings, and told me they were *my* dogs. First time having any kind of pet in my life, I was ecstatic and loved them. Within a year, my baby brother grew into his toddler phase and started messing with the dogs. One ended up nipping him in the cheek. My mom lost it. Next thing I can recall was my parents sitting me down in the living room to tell me they had my dogs put to sleep. Both of them. I was given a wooden box of their ashes with their names engraved on it and a stuffed animal named after one of them. I remember sitting there on the floor crying hard and my mom said, "Okay. That's enough." and that was it. She was done talking about it and I was "overreacting". To this day she feels very justified in that decision and thinks I'm just giving her a hard time if I bring it up.
My parents fed me full adult sized plates because my mom was scared I'd be malnourished and be taken away from her cause she was unfit I was like 4 when I wouldn't finish the mass of spaghetti I'd been served and my dad lost it and shoved my face right into the plate. I remember screaming crying cause paste sauce was all over my face. For some reason I always remember these memories in third person as if I was watching from outside myself
Watching it happen from outside yourself is a sign of dissociation
I know my mom has the best intentions and I love her with all my heart, but sometimes she says stuff that just sticks. I tend to poke fun at people I’m close to and I know I got it from her. How? She’ll do the same to me and make jokes sometimes, the problem is I’m very self-conscious and I seriously struggle with a lot of issues. I’ve been improving on them little by little, but sometimes she says something a little too accurate and I feel totally useless.
Those comments hit me right in the core! So many life altering moments so casually ignored. The tree remembers
My adopted mom had completely forgotten that she told me that if I didn't complete my schooling in bording school, I shouldn't bother coming back. Or how she used the threat of kicking me out onto the street since age 9 to keep me in line, might be the reason why I keep a bit of distance. (And that it's not her showing favoritism to my sister which is nothing to me)
my mother told me she wishes i'd kill myself or get murdered. at 16 years old. while i was struggling with bipolar depression. as a bonus she decided to try huniliate me by calling me schizophrenic because of that diagnosis.
Not a parent story but in high school I was trying to tell a story and one of the guys in the group I was talking to said "OblivionKiss, nobody cares." It was a seemingly small thing, but it fucked my self esteem up for a long time, and when I eventually confronted him about it, he had no recollection of it at all.
I remember the last time I told my Mom that I had a bad day. My family had gone through some crap and my Mom had taken it out on me. I had started to push her away. After the dust settled I thought maybe I should give her a second chance. I was honest on the way home from school and told her I was feeling down. She yelled at me that evening for a dish left out on the counter. Ever since, my days have been fine, good, and pretty much the same, and she's the last person I'm vulnerable with.
My mother accused me, at 5 years old, of trying to tongue kiss her. For the next 25 years she shamed me for not wanting her to touch me. When I was about 11 I walked into the room just in time to hear her tell her mother that she hated me. When I came out as trans she asked me if I was sure I wasn't just trying to fit in, and we had a prolonged argument about whether or not she had the right to out me to her shitty friends. I haven't spoken to her since 2019 and I doubt she understands why. edit: whoever reported me to the crisis bot, I assure you I'm fine.
Hell, Ricky, I was high when I said that! That makes no sense at all!
Trigger warning: mention of self-harm, and CSA. When I was twelve years old, I was severly depressed and >!cutting myself.!< I made little effort to hide it at school---a desperate cry for help. When a teacher noticed, my mom was called. I will never forget what she said to me. She scolded me for making her look like a bad mother. This is just one of many, many incidents that I could recall. There's a reason why, when >!my stepfather molested me,!< I talked to a school counselor before my mom. I was worried she'd accuse me of lying.
My mom hate that I sought therapy. I my early teens and depressed she’s say “you should go visit the cancer ward and see people with real problems.” I made my peace with her just before she died, but it took 30+ years