There’s a poignant poem by Philip Larkin titled “This Be The Verse,” which opens with the line, “They mess you up, your mum and dad./ They may not mean to, but they do.” This sentiment resonates deeply with many, as it captures the essence of parental influence—often fraught with challenges. While some parents engage in truly damaging behaviors, for most, the issues are more mundane yet impactful. They might raise their voices too often, conceal their emotions, or overlook signs of distress in their children. The result? Many kids grow up feeling unloved and disconnected.
My parents were far from perfect. I faced constant yelling, often accompanied by phrases like, “What’s wrong with you?!” The rare occasion I witnessed my mother’s tears left me terrified, as her emotional vulnerability was foreign to me. I was labeled overly sensitive and lacking common sense. In truth, I struggle with severe anxiety, depression, and mild ADHD. I often felt deprived of affection and support. When I left for college 600 miles away, I rushed to start anew, eager to escape the emotional turbulence of my childhood.
The Decision to Stay Connected
As adults, we confront a critical decision: Do we distance ourselves from the parents who may have hurt us, or do we choose to embrace them? This decision took me considerable time, reflection, and discussions with my therapist, along with insights from a well-known advice columnist (whose identity I’ll keep private). Ultimately, I made my choice during the painful period of my parents’ divorce: I would keep them in my life. I realized it was essential for my well-being, for my children, and, in a way, for them too.
Admittedly, they can be challenging. My parents often oscillate between periods of frequent communication and long silences. When I reach out during these quiet spells, conversations tend to be curt. Frustration builds; I feel utilized during my successes, such as when I secured a piece in a major publication, but sidelined during struggles like mental health crises.
They have their flaws. My mother struggles to understand my mental health challenges, possibly dismissing my ADHD as exaggerated. My father seems to believe that using racial slurs in another language is acceptable and has a problematic relationship with alcohol. Despite his health issues, he continues to drink excessively. His infidelities during their marriage haunt our family, and he often calls me in tears, needing reassurance of his worth, while neglecting to remember my children’s birthdays or to send gifts.
Acknowledging Their Efforts
Yet, I acknowledge that they did their best given the circumstances. Their generation seldom discussed mental health openly, often resorting to mockery or euphemisms. My father has expressed regret for not securing the help I needed as a child, though he attributes some blame to my mother. They were stretched thin, working tirelessly to provide for our family. Their intentions were rooted in love, even if the execution was flawed.
When my mental health deteriorated, my parents made sacrifices—like purchasing a horse we couldn’t afford—which ended up being a source of joy and healing for me. They celebrated my achievements and supported my endeavors, cheering me on during races and events. I refuse to deny their efforts.
Choosing Connection
Despite the friction, I choose to stay connected. There have been significant conflicts, and I’ve distanced myself during particularly hurtful episodes. My grandfather has even urged me to reconnect with my mother. I’ve felt excluded from family matters and resentful when my kids aren’t included in conversations.
However, my decision to remain in contact stems from my belief that my parents deserve the chance to build relationships with their grandchildren. My kids adore them, viewing their grandparents as sources of joy, affection, and adventure. My mother has a unique ability to help my children sleep, and when my youngest was born, she traveled all the way to support me, managing my toddlers with admirable dedication.
Despite my father’s shortcomings, he longs to create memories with my boys, like fishing trips. He cherishes moments captured in photographs of my children, revealing a softer side. His pride in my accomplishments is evident as he boasts about my writing to his friends.
The Journey of Forgiveness
So, I’ve decided to keep them in my life. While their flaws can be toxic, I’ve noticed that these tendencies seem to soften over time. Achieving forgiveness for my childhood was a challenging journey, one that involved therapy and a realization that they did their best with what they knew. I’ve also had to forgive their present-day imperfections.
If your parents’ shortcomings aren’t severely harmful, it might be worth considering keeping them close. This choice is deeply personal; for some, cutting ties may be necessary, especially when faced with genuinely toxic behavior. I once believed that distancing myself was the best option, but I learned that severing ties often complicates other family dynamics.
Ultimately, I chose to keep my parents, and it has been a rewarding decision. I still have a family, and that connection, with all its complexities, enriches my life. I hope my example of forgiveness and resilience influences my children, encouraging them to maintain a relationship with me one day, despite my own imperfections as a parent.
Further Reading
For more insights into family dynamics and options for starting a family, you might find this post on home insemination helpful: intracervicalinsemination.com. If you’re interested in resources for your journey, Make a Mom provides valuable information. Additionally, for a comprehensive overview of insemination options, check out Resolve.
In summary, maintaining a relationship with my parents, despite their imperfections, has proven beneficial not only for me but also for my children. It’s a choice steeped in both love and forgiveness, allowing us to navigate our family dynamics together.