I Disowned My Parents

No one expects their parents to get everything right, every time. I think we can all agree that sometimes our parents' flaws make them more relatable to us, and easier for us to talk to. A mom who panics when she loses track of time is a space for an anxious teen to find common ground. A dad who pushes you maybe a little too hard at something he thinks you love is a learning opportunity for you both. But sometimes our parents make decisions that cannot allow for growth or healing in either direction. And that is where the intersection of mental health and societal expectation happens.

Parents make unacceptable decisions all the time. Some may use the Child Welfare System to prevent you from parenting your own child, evict you for expressing a Queer identity, deny you the mental health or medical care you need to function well in society, abuse you mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually - and you might just take all of it at incredible expense to yourself. And when get asked why, you say "they're still my parents, and I'm sure they love me."

I tolerated a deeply emotionally and psychologically abusive Parent-Child relationship because they had something of mine that I had no power to retrieve within the law. To make it worse, I thought my other Parent-Child relationship was healthy because it was so good by comparison. In the end, I married a great woman who brought with her an amazing daughter, who I get to be a mom to now - and I set about building my own life outside of those relationships. While they both seemed supportive, even turning up to the wedding and bringing gifts, everything they did was coated in ulterior motives.

One of the first nights my partner and I spent at my family home included a conversation where one of my parents made comments that alluded to the idea that I would have been happier if left on that property. Later on, during a visit to their home, my neurodivergence was met with aggression and verbal abuse. Then at the wedding, my Maid of Honor had to keep finding ways to keep that same parent out of everything that didn't belong to them. In the meantime they were always so kind and expressed so much pride to my partner, painting a portrait of loving and supportive parents.

But then, when I finally started to trust them again, they could not hide who they really were. They made unacceptable choices over, and over, and over again. My step-daughter, henceforth referred to as my daughter, has a few really intense mental health issues that I am committed to working through from start to finish at her side. We recently had a hospital stay and we're reconsidering medications. During a phone call I was asked "what kind of meds will make her grow a moral compass", and then, when I confronted them the next day they decided to flip things around and accuse me of not being capable of handling myself under duress while forgetting that I was walking my daughter through a psych emergency and managing my wife's needs. So I said a harsh, short, unmoving goodbye.

I find after that, now that I have had time for the dust to settle, I'm not in pain because I do not have my parents anymore. It hurts because I feel like a great weight was lifted off of me and I can breathe more easily now. No more worrying about their religiosity poisoning my child's need for emotional and mental support and validation. No more needing to set strict boundaries that they repeatedly show no motivation to adhere to or respect. I am no longer responsible to carefully curating their responses to my family life. That's not what I wanted to feel.

I wanted to realize they were really just trying to help me in a moment of pain and fear, and that they have always been trying so hard to be good parents to a really hard kid. But that's just it. I wasn't a hard kid by my nature, in fact I was gentle and kind and open-minded from the cradle. I wanted to bring love and softness into the world and to lay myself in a bed of music and roses. I was a hard kid because I was being taught that mental, emotional and spiritual violence was love; and so I was communicating in the language they taught me. And now that I am aware of that - I cannot be blind to it again. I was abused by parents who were taught that the abuse was loving me, taught that by their parents.

The pain I am in is Grief. I am mourning a relationship that I wanted to have had - one that I now realize I do not have. One I will never have because my parents have chosen a pathway that makes them learning what I have learned impossible. And cutting that toxic influence off was the right thing to do as a Daughter and as a Parent. I had to realize that parents who say "losing you would be sad, but not the end of the world" aren't lying. If my daughter ever disowns me, I pray that it is the end of the world for me - because I pray it motivates me to ask what changes I can make to rectify our relationship.

It is okay to grieve a healthy Parent-Child Relationship that never existed. What is important for healing moving forward is to acknowledge that the love and affection I was receiving were transactional, and that I deserve to be loved well, and to be treated like I am important, and to be given the respect I deserve as a person; so I can grieve unrestricted and let myself heal from the harm that has already been done.