Dear Jane and Tom,
It feels strange to address you this way. In my heart, I’ve never truly had parents. While you were physically present, emotionally, you were absent.
For years, I struggled with anger. You were right; I do have an issue with it. Being told I couldn’t show negative feelings, experiencing shame for simply being hurt, and being gaslit only fueled my anger. You instilled the belief that expressing anger equated to being a bad person. Yet, it was acceptable for you to be volatile and verbally abusive, while I was left to feel guilty for not being the one expressing anger. You left me in a state of confusion, often questioning my own sanity and worth.
The anger I’ve felt has often been directed at myself. Why wasn’t I lovable? Why didn’t I meet your standards of beauty or interest? I concluded it was my fault. You taught me that you were never to blame. I internalized this, holding myself accountable for the things you did to me.
But I was just a child. You were the adults. It was never my fault.
I realize I wasn’t the perfect child. Yes, I may have caused you stress at times, and maybe you had your own struggles that made parenting difficult. But none of that absolves you of responsibility.
I have waited years for genuine apologies from you. I would consider reconnecting if I believed you had changed. However, your apologies feel empty. You utter them because you know they’re expected, not because you truly feel remorse. You apologize hoping I’ll forget and we can revert to the same cycle of dysfunction.
What you fail to grasp is that your “normal” is far from acceptable. I refuse to return to that place of self-loathing and fear. Your apologies are more painful than silence. You don’t believe you owe me genuine accountability. When your apologies come with instructions for me to simply accept them and not be upset, it’s clear that your hope for change is just a fantasy. You think parents are infallible and children should obey without question.
I respected you once. They say respect is earned, and I now understand that disrespect is as well. While I would never be cruel to you, I cannot bring myself to respect those who betray their own children repeatedly, exploiting their forgiveness instead of cherishing the chance to do better.
The last interaction I had with you, Jane, was laced with passive-aggression: “I hope nothing ever goes wrong with your children.” I understood the implication. You wish for my children to distance themselves from me so that I might finally empathize with you, believing it wasn’t your fault. Tom, in your last letter, you lamented the difficulties of parenting, suggesting that my struggles might lead me to your conclusions.
Those words wounded me deeply. I felt invalidated and lost hope that you could ever change.
Yet, in a strange way, I thank you.
Thank you for demonstrating the critical importance of adults owning up to their mistakes in front of children. Thank you for showing me that respect is not a given. Thank you for teaching me that parents must take responsibility for their actions, regardless of their hardships. Thank you for illustrating that sincere apologies must be backed by actions that prove to children they are safe and can trust their parents.
Thank you for showing me how NOT to parent. If I ever have children, I will ensure they can express their feelings without fear of being gaslit. When they think of safety and open dialogues, I want them to think of me.