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Donna Mae DePola - Guest Speaker Chat ...May 25th 2013 ... for more information please read this!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
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It is funny how quickly I dismiss the bad side of my parents in favor of the good. I convince myself those things were not really that bad, I really do actually have decent parents. I assume I must be making it up, I am exaggerating, I am making it out to be much worse then it is. Or I am just making it all up. I had a happy childhood and good parents.
I think of good things that they did, and they did do good things. It was not 100% bad. Except it never is, nothing is that black and white, nothing is that simple, there is always so much grey area. I need to be able to hold both, sit in the tension of the opposites.
I was talking to one of my kid the other day, my kids are really into hearing "stories from when they were babies." So I was telling them, and thinking how I have none of these stories about myself. My mother has never told me a positive story about me as a child. All I hear about is how awful I was, what a burden I was, what a problem I was.
I was made to feel guilty, by my parents, for being born sick, something completely not my fault. But I was made to believe it was, that I had done something horrible, I was horrible, and therefore I deserved everything that was happening to me.
The reality is they do not really accept or support me. When I am doing well they do, and that is all they know. I would never even call them up and say "I am having a bad day" I cannot even imagine trying. When I am with them I am required to me 100% happy and 100% fine. There is no room for me to be anything less, it is not tolerable to them. They ridicule who I am and what is important to me. And yet I am terrified to make certain choices without them, I had panic that they would not like the paint color I picked for my kitchen. Why does it even matter, why do I need their approval?
It is as if I am expecting them someday to just accept me, if I do enough to make them happy they will forgive me for what a horrible child I was, I will get them to love me and make up for being born broken which I am being punished for and I deserve to be punished for.
And yet with all this evidence, I only think of the good things they did, and use that to excuse the bad and convince myself I had a happy childhood. The only way happy can be used to describe my childhood is that I am happy it is over!
I think of good things that they did, and they did do good things. It was not 100% bad. Except it never is, nothing is that black and white, nothing is that simple, there is always so much grey area. I need to be able to hold both, sit in the tension of the opposites.
I was talking to one of my kid the other day, my kids are really into hearing "stories from when they were babies." So I was telling them, and thinking how I have none of these stories about myself. My mother has never told me a positive story about me as a child. All I hear about is how awful I was, what a burden I was, what a problem I was.
I was made to feel guilty, by my parents, for being born sick, something completely not my fault. But I was made to believe it was, that I had done something horrible, I was horrible, and therefore I deserved everything that was happening to me.
The reality is they do not really accept or support me. When I am doing well they do, and that is all they know. I would never even call them up and say "I am having a bad day" I cannot even imagine trying. When I am with them I am required to me 100% happy and 100% fine. There is no room for me to be anything less, it is not tolerable to them. They ridicule who I am and what is important to me. And yet I am terrified to make certain choices without them, I had panic that they would not like the paint color I picked for my kitchen. Why does it even matter, why do I need their approval?
It is as if I am expecting them someday to just accept me, if I do enough to make them happy they will forgive me for what a horrible child I was, I will get them to love me and make up for being born broken which I am being punished for and I deserve to be punished for.
And yet with all this evidence, I only think of the good things they did, and use that to excuse the bad and convince myself I had a happy childhood. The only way happy can be used to describe my childhood is that I am happy it is over!
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You said it yourself: it's not black and white and that's where the confusion usually exists. Not having parental support and approval is probably one of the most painful realities to face in life, but realising you can't do anything to change that will hopefully give you the freedom to live life without being paralysed about whether or not they will approve of your decisions. It doesn't matter what they think, if they can't find it within their hearts to accept you as the person you are. I am working on that myself...amazing how that fear of disapproval and need for acceptance/guidance doesn't disappear as we get older ! Heh.
Either way, just wanted to let you know i read this and understand how you feel. For what it's worth, you are an amazing person and if they can't accept you, it's truly their loss.