8.01.2024
I don't know where I got this thought from but here it goes. (I apologise for any grammer and spelling mistakes in this post)
I thought to myself ''Do I actually love my parents?" and I answered my question by saying no.
For context; My parents did not have a healthy marriage, they seperated when I was around 5 or 6 years old and divorced when I was 7. so as a kid I got used to hearing my mother scream and cry to herself about how betrayed she felt when my father cheated on her with her highschool classmate, I got used to my father not being present in my life fairly quickly. This is because even if he was physically there, he would either be sleeping or locked himself in the bathroom to text his other woman. When my father left, my mother was a wreck. She would be easy to irritate, or having an emotional breakdown if she wasn't angry at me for not being able to read properly or do fractions in math.
in those moments, I started emotionally detatching myself from them, I didn't realise that until later on. "I can't talk to Mummy because she's always mad at me or sad at something else." In the moments I did talk to her she would always victimise herself saying that I never really cared about how she feels, or how shes going through a hard time, I this I that, talking about how much of a great parent she is compared to her own mother. While its true that I don't care for the emotional well being of my mother, whats also true is that she was never emotionally available for me when I needed her the most. I needed her to be there for me emotionally as a little kid and she wasn't.
For the most part she was the cause of most of my pain back then. My mother had a friend that would help her through the rough times before my father divorced her, my mother would run away and take me and my older brother with her to hide at their house because my father would start getting physically abusive. Her friend had a daughter my age, in front of the adults, she would act very kindly to me but behind close doors she would pinch me, belittle me, look down on me simply because my family wasn't as good as hers, and because my mother would always lean on her friend for help, her daughter would believe that I owed her something. When I really didn't want to be there in the first place.
I told my mother that she was bullying me but she still insisted for me to hangout and get along with her, even when her friends daughter would force me to eat sand in the playgorund. My mother didn't protect me much emotionally, nor did she physically protect me either. I would tell her about people who would bully me at school but she would disregard that saying I needed to be stronger. When saying that didn't help my case, when I was being followed into the girls toilets, harassed in class and harassed online by my schoolmates.
So I stopped relying on my mother for emotional support, infact now I don't want her to help and I don't need her help either because growing up in her household taught me to never ask for help even if I cant handdle it anymore. In the present I don't talk to my mother unless she engages in contact with me first. That's how indifferent I am to her now, I just don't care anymore. Every conversation we have turns into her dumping her passed trauma onto me or lecturing me about life and that I know nothing and need her and about how she could easily disown me. When this happens I just disassociate myself because I cannot be bothered listening to her anymore.
Once I dont need her financial support, I'm cutting all ties with her.
As for my father, its a given, he wasnt present in my life whatsover after they divorced so I don't care about what happens to him know, he is merely a stranger.
I've had a conversation with my friends before about parents and most of the time I usually stay quiet because I have barely anything good to say about mine, but I didn't want to make it seem like they were terrible to my peers. In this conversation, my friends confessed that they fear the day that their parents will pass away, because the safe feeling of love, security, warmth and guidance would disappear. But I don't share the same feelings towards my parents as they do. Which makes me feel guilty; because they were the ones who brought me into this world... how come I don't feel anything fond for them. I know for a fact that I am not a good person, and I know for a fact I am not an angel nor have I beena stereotypically good child but I still stand with the statement that I genuinely don't love my parents. I do feel ashamed of that but that is the truth. I do not love them nor can I say I hate them.
My reasoning for that is because my mother and father always came through when it came ro financially supporting me, I was able to live with a roof under my head, nice food, clothes and an education. They did what they could for me as physical parents and I am grateful for that, I truely am. My mother didn't deserve the emotional pressure and heart break but I didn't deserve to be treated terribly because she can't regulate herself. What would a 6 year old child know about emotional trauma? Why do I have to carry the emotional burdens of my mother? and why must I always be judged for my fathers behaviour?
I don't love my parents, nor do I hate them. I feel ashamed and guilty for this....
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