Estranged- my story of going no-contact + resources for toxic relationships
I’m going to start this post with a couple of disclaimers. First- it’s probably going to be long, which is why I decided while I was jotting down a few of my key points in outline form that I might have to split this up into parts. It’s probably for the best though because in addition to the length (sorry in advance for the rabbit-trailing!) it’s also going to be a lot to digest. What I’m talking about isn’t fun. I’m not doing it for entertainment or attention. I’m not doing it to bash anyone- that’s disclaimer number two. I’m doing this for me and for the countless other women out there right now googling “how to deal with toxic parents” or “parental estrangement” and end up here on this blog post. I’m sharing it because getting it out is therapeutic for me and it’s what I always do when I’m trying to process or work my way through something- anyone who reads my blog knows that. I didn’t decide to share my story because I want anyone to feel sorry for me. I share because I care, and I know how lonely this process has been for me. I know my story will resonate with someone out there, even if it’s just one person. If I can make one person feel better about their situation then it’s worth it to me. And while doing that and sharing my struggles, my trials, my story, I can connect with other women out there wondering how the hell they ended up in my situation- estranged from their parents. This is for them. So if that’s you please keep reading and hopefully I’ll get to my points quickly 🙂
Telling someone you don’t talk to your parents is weird. Most people don’t understand it. The amount of times I’ve heard “but she’s your mother” or “just forgive and forget” is staggering. People just don’t understand the situation unless they’ve really been there. Most people probably have normal parents though and they don’t think a mother or a father could ever say or do something so bad or so seemingly “unforgivable” that an adult child would decide to 100% walk away from their relationship and cease all communication between them. But the sad, cold reality is that those types of parents do exist. To varying degrees. And there are in fact legitimate reasons to step back or completely cut ties with a toxic and/or abusive parent. I’m here to reaffirm that for you, regardless of what some of your friends or family might say in your moments of weakness: no one has a right to be in your life when they continually hurt you without remorse, refuse to accept personal boundaries, or otherwise cause you physical or emotional harm. If a spouse treated you that way, surely friends would tell you to get a divorce. Leave the abuser. Or at the very least, protect yourself and get professional help, right? But what about when that person is your parent? Your mother or father? Are you expected to endure simply because they’re your parents? When you put it that way some people will still argue that “life is too short” or something along those lines. I’ve heard it so many times. That no matter what you should work through your issues for the sake of family. Family is everything! Only it’s not for everyone. People who have kind, loving, empathetic parents with healthy relationships and unconditional love just can’t really grasp this though.
I unfortunately fall into the category- I am estranged from my parents and no longer have any relationship with them. I assure you my decision to finally completely remove myself from the situation is not one that was taken lightly. And it wasn’t immediate. This was a slowly developing thing that happened over years. The recent “fight” or “falling out” or whatever you want to call this “thing” that’s been going on with my mom and I started at the end of my pregnancy with Josiah (now 2+ years old). It doesn’t even matter at this point how it started, but basically…I stood up for myself. The short (yeah right) version would be that a sibling and his wife did something pretty crappy and intentional to me, my husband, & children and I felt like my mom didn’t defend me or try to help the situation in any way. Then afterward, I caught her lying to me about a family function I wasn’t invited to, called her on it, and she deleted me as a friend on Facebook. Sure, I went off on her a little- I totally admit that. But she had already clearly taken my brother’s side & I was hurt. And then she lied to me about the family function & made something up so that I’d let my kids attend, without me, without my knowledge of it happening. She planned a party for said brother and his wife and wanted my kids there but not me. She pretended like she wanted to take my kids to give me a break, when really she had planned a party and didn’t want me in attendance. When I told her how messed up that sounded, plus the fact that she tricked me to try to get them to go without me, I was un-friended on Facebook. By my own 54 year old mother. Yes, it sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? From there it escalated. And as anyone can clearly tell, I’m not dealing with a rational, mature person. I was baited with her manipulation tactics over and over again. I was called horrible names, hung up on, blocked, publicly shamed on her Facebook page for all of our family and mutual friends to see. She was constantly sharing far too much information that was of course embellished and one-sided, making her seem like a poor, innocent, devoted grandmother and that I, her evil daughter who was always “the bad one” suddenly decided that I hated my parents and wanted nothing to do with them. That one day I decided I hated them and then I ripped the children from their clutches. You see where I’m going.
This went on for a while over and over again, right after I had just had my fourth baby. Postpartum depression hit me like a ton of bricks, my anxiety was through the roof, I had a fussy newborn with reflux, a needy toddler, 2 older kids who had homework and lives and needed me too, and a workaholic husband trying to provide for us. All the while, my mother was sitting a mere 20 minutes away at her house doing nothing to make our situation better. I found out she’d been saying horrible things about me to other family members, like “Melissa hasn’t been a nice person for awhile. We only put up with her to see the grandkids.” That, combined with the way I was treated as a kid, and the way she was presently and continually coming at me with the verbal abuse and manipulation tactics (calling me bitch one day and then the next day telling me my dad didn’t want to live anymore without me in their lives). She kept luring me back for more. She could never just let things be or play nice for more than a few weeks before it would start all over again. A Facebook post directed at me with just horrible, awful things being said in the comments by her friends…or worse yet, other family members. Seeing things like that written about you…seeing your mom revel in the attention she was getting from her friends telling her how awful I was for not letting her see her grandkids…it was just disgusting. The thing is, after Josiah was born, she didn’t ask to see him. She never picked up the phone and called. Or texted. The only times she’d reach out to me would to be nasty or say something backhanded. It was always something negative. And then was I supposed to invite her over or something? It was just mind boggling and honestly really confusing, especially with everything going on with the kids and my postpartum issues. I felt like I was on a bad reality show or something. How could she think what she was doing was helping?
I waited and waited to see if I’d ever see a shred of remorse from her, but a genuine apology never came. Sure, she was amazing at the faux-apologies. The sad cards I got with frowny faces drawn on them with things like “I’m sorry you think I’m a horrible mother” or “I’m sorry you don’t remember everything we’ve done for you.” Every time I’d see another “I’m sorry…but…” my heart would sink. All of the cruel words from my childhood and from now would flood my memory and I just kind of had this realization that I must not mean that much to her. I think I always knew that she was just playing nice to see the kids for the longest time. But deep down she just didn’t have much love for me. How could she though? She couldn’t even bring herself to utter a real apology to her firstborn child- her only daughter and the mother of her 4 grandkids, who had just had a baby. She couldn’t bring herself to say she was truly sorry to me. Because she wasn’t sorry. I’ve known from the beginning that it’s all been a sick & twisted power struggle with her- and she just won’t give an inch for me. Not even for the sake of having a relationship with her grandkids.
On New Years Eve 2017, one year ago, I was called an ungrateful b*tch by my mother for the last time. When that message popped up in my inbox I just froze. She’d used the exact term before a few months prior, so it didn’t sting as much anymore. Her words just kind of bounced off of me at that point, I was so used to it. My mother calling me a b*tch is nothing new. I’d been hearing it all my life! I just didn’t reply to her insult. I told my husband I was done. I said “I’m done being called names. I’m done having her just message me and ruin my day and make me think about her and all of the crap she’s done this last year. Don’t let me reply to anything and don’t let her bait me into a conversation!” He agreed (he’s never been a fan of theirs and they hadn’t talked to him in 3 years prior to this anyway- yeah, that’s a whole other story itself, haha). I don’t remember exactly when, but packages started showing up after the new year. One for my daughters birthday in March and of course there was a card in there for me with another faux-apology. She said she “didn’t know what went so wrong.” I figured maybe apologizing for the ungrateful b*tch comment would be a good place to start, but sure, feign amnesia and let’s just sweep that part under the rug like most everything else, right mom? I didn’t reply to it.
More packages and mail came. I opened them but didn’t reply. More bait. An old book that my deceased grandmother had gifted me as a child, complete with a little note she’d written on the inside jacket. I remember reading that book over and over again as a kid. I held the book and cried. God damn my mother. And then there it was- another note from my mom along with it. An apology? Of course not! This time it was a 4 page letter detailing her childhood abuse in detail for me, and another faux-apology. And things like “I didn’t know you held so much hatred for us” and “we did the best we could” over and over. It’s her trademark tactic- bait, manipulate, deflect. Repeat, repeat, repeat. I decided the next thing she sent wouldn’t be opened and I’d write return to sender on it. I just wanted her to leave me alone for an extended period of time. I couldn’t take anymore of her emotional torture. I had kids and a newborn I was trying to raise and take care of, and I didn’t need to be hit with all of this at the same time. I just wanted some peace, and for me that meant not dealing with my mother’s verbal abuse.
The final straw
Throughout all of this I hadn’t heard from my dad. He never tried to talk to me or find out what was going on with my mother and I. He never asked my side of it or tried to help us mend the relationship. He never once just said “What the heck is going on?” I knew in my heart that trying to reach out to him would be futile. I knew that surely my mother had been filling his head with lies, telling him a very one-sided story where I was the villain and she is the victim. I’d seen some of what she’d been telling people online already- saying that I told them I hated them and that I didn’t love them. Neither of which I’ve ever said. But that’s what she tells people and I’m sure if she’s lied about that she’s lied about a lot more. Do I think she’s told my dad all the times she’s lashed out at me and called me names? How she’s actually never truly apologized? No. And worse yet- he’s been spreading her false version of reality to everyone too without having any firsthand knowledge about it. He’s just repeating whatever he’s been told by her, which in turn makes it sound that much more convincing. They’re both are telling the same story when he’s had absolutely zero involvement. I knew he was a goner and that he would be team her all the way forever. But I never in my life expected the email I got from him when he finally decided to break his silence to me 1.5 years later.
I suppose I should give you a little back story here, because this is something I’ve never publicly talked about. Only a few of my friends and some family members know that my dad isn’t actually my biological father. He met my mom when she was about 5 months pregnant with me and has been the only father I’ve ever known. Apparently the entire family (aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc) were told not to say anything and to pretend like he was my dad though. His name is on my birth certificate, even though he’s not my biological father (is that even legal?) Anyway, I was maybe 8 or 10 or so when I was asked if I knew were babies came from and was told that some other man was my biological father. I don’t remember much about the conversation. I think we were fishing. I want to say it was just me and him there but everything is pretty foggy. I remember being told that I had a different dad and not much else. Maybe there was more, maybe not. I don’t remember ever talking about it ever again with my dad. My mom talked about it once or twice in my teens, but it was always awkward. I learned that my paternal grandmother was alive and my mom had been sending Christmas cards and school photos and little updates like that since we had moved away. It was a lot for me to process.
I vividly remember telling my younger brother (we’re about 20 months apart) that I had a different dad once and he said “Yeah right. Mom said you’re a liar and I shouldn’t believe anything you say.” He and I tried to sneak through some papers filed away and look for my birth certificate, but we never did find it. Later, when my mom found out we were looking for it she was furious. And then she couldn’t find it either, and was convinced I’d stolen it from her. I admitted I’d snooped around and told her I didn’t ever find. But I was a liar in her eyes. And then that got thrown in my face countless times over the years, “Just like the birth certificate you didn’t steal, right Melissa?” (At some point she ended up finding it and mentioned it in passing, never apologizing of course). I had so many questions and I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about any of it. I got the feeling my dad wanted to pretend nothing happened and my mom seemed to tip toe around it in regards to him- only really speaking to me about it in private, when he wasn’t around. Getting information like that as a young child and then having to play the keeper of your family’s biggest secret all your life isn’t fun.
So then, to get an email from my dad after a year and a half of complete silence while my mom and I duked it out, only to have him call me a liar and then sign off like that was a complete sucker punch. Good luck and goodbye from your non biological parent. Well, if that isn’t a screw you I don’t know what is. I mean, how is a daughter supposed to take that? I knew exactly why he’d said it too.
A few days before the email, I had been tagged in a silly little Instagram hashtag thingy called #10thingsaboutme. The point was you re-introduce yourselves to your audience by listing 10 random facts about yourself no one probably knows. Well, I copied the post and filled in my answers. I wrote: “#3 I’ve never met my biological father (but he did try to list me as his daughter on Facebook once, which was kind of weird considering we aren’t even friends.)” That’s it. I didn’t say I didn’t have a dad. Or that missed my real dad. Or anything like that. I made a simple factual statement on my personal Instagram account. It wasn’t a dig at him. And what I said was true- one time, a few years back, my biological father (who is friends with my mother, by the way, but has never talked to me, which I think is just weird) tried to list me as his daughter on his Facebook page. I got a notification saying “So & so has listed you as his daughter. Would you like to confirm this and add him to your own family tree?” I was like uhhhh what? After clicking on his page and looking around I realized that this was my biological father. I recognized the name after a few seconds- my mom had told me once or twice. I’d seen him comment on my mom’s stuff before but I didn’t put two and two together. He had tried to list me as his daughter. After some digging I saw that he had an entire folder called “Melissa Ann” and he had a bunch of old photos of me from when I was a baby and child in the late 80’s. It completely weirded me out. Why was he posting pictures of me and listing me as his daughter if he’d never tried to make contact with me? It was just really weird and confusing and honestly pissed me off. Like he was trying to take credit for something when he’d never had anything to do with. So back to the Instagram post- that’s all I said. I’d said that I never met my biological father. Apparently the mere mention of the words “biological father” sent my “dad” who raised me my entire life into a fit of rage. He decided to break his silence and finally speak to me for the first time in nearly two years by reaching out just to tell me I was a liar and to throw it in my face that he wasn’t my dad. All capital letters- GOODBYE AND GOOD LUCK FROM YOUR NON BIOLOGICAL PARENT. What kind of man says that to his daughter?
Not one that I want to have anything to do with. The second I read those words I was done. Done. DONE. I hadn’t done anything wrong by saying what I said. I’m a 34 year old woman and that is MY reality. I’ve never met my biological father. Am I not allowed to say that to anyone? Was it still a secret that I was expected to keep for everyone else?
After the email my husband decided he’d had enough. He watched me just crumble after reading it. My hands were shaking. I couldn’t even talk. I was a mess. He asked for my dad’s email address and said he was finally going to put a stop to it. He’d had enough- he was going to tell them to leave me alone and to not contact me or the kids again. I read the entire reply he sent to my dad and it was just so good. It wasn’t mean or defensive. It was smart and eloquent and everything my parents words weren’t- calm, rational, and mature. My husband truly has a way with words and he’s insanely intelligent and articulate- something most people don’t realize about him because he’s quiet and covered in tattoos. He told them that from that day forward, under no circumstances were they to contact any of us again. That I’d contact them if I wanted to and that the first step towards any hope of reconciliation one day would be to respect our boundaries and honor my wishes. He sent the reply and to this day I have not heard a single word from my dad. In over two years the only thing he’s said to his only daughter was in that email. Does that sound like a grandfather who is so devastated about not seeing his daughter and grandchildren that he doesn’t want to go on living much longer? Which is it dad? Because you can’t have it both ways. I’d held out a little hope in the very beginning that eventually I’d get to talk to my dad again and that maybe he’d see my side of it at least a little, but now I know he’s a lost cause. Anyone who would say those kinds of things to me doesn’t deserve to be in our lives. And if he’s going to believe my mom’s side of it without ever asking me, well then, he deserves to continue to be clueless and manipulated by his wife. They deserve each other.
Just a couple of weeks after my husband’s reply to my dad, a card showed up with my mom’s handwriting on it. I was furious. I had just been basking in the absence of noise from my parents. It had been about a full month without so much as a word from either of them. My mom hadn’t posted anything about me on Facebook either- pretty sure that was a record for her. Making up pity-party posts about me was a favorite pastime of hers. I can’t tell you how many times I’d seen something like “It’s been _____ since our daughter took our grandchildren away from us!” Cue the sad/outraged comments from her friends…my mother stopping to “like” each and every comment against me. But she hadn’t posted anything like that in a few weeks and I though maybe I’d finally get a few months of peace and that maybe my husband’s email to my dad had worked. They were finally respecting some boundaries!
But then this card showed up at the beginning of June and again, my hands started shaking. I texted my husband as quickly as I could while I started to have a full on panic attack. Why was she sending me something again? Why couldn’t she just leave me alone? My husband called me right away and talked me down. He told me not to open it. To relax and breathe and pretend I didn’t see it. She doesn’t matter anymore. They’re not nice people. They don’t matter to you anymore….they don’t even know you. He said all the right things to bring me back down to Earth and and I found that peace again. No. She wasn’t going to barge back into my life and ruin all the progress I’d made. I had just started to forget about it a little, or at least not think about it constantly. I remembered her last words to me- ungrateful b*tch. I thought about my dad’s last words to me- goodbye from your non biological parent. And then I grabbed a Sharpie and wrote “return to sender” on the front of the envelope. Then on the back, just for good measure, I wrote “do not contact me again.”
And about 3 days later, just as I predicted, cue the sad Facebook post where my mom tells everyone that she has no idea why her daughter just wrote “return to sender” on her birthday card in the mail. Of course she had to let everyone know that I’d written rejected it. Apparently it was a birthday card. How was I to know? And then I scoffed in disbelief when I thought about it for a second: my mother, who still has never apologized for anything (let alone calling me an ungrateful b word), is upset because I didn’t accept her birthday card. Because I’m the cruel one of course. And then of course cue the comments from her friends reassuring her that she did the right thing by trying to send it and that I was heartless and ungrateful daughter for keeping her grandkids from her still. The same old song and dance, over and over.
My mother should not be on Facebook. Seriously, my mother and the internet are not a good combination. She has literally ruined our entire relationship and any hopes of ever reconciling with me because of Facebook. It’s really bizarre to me. Every time I see her post something or even type out the phrase “my mother posted…” or something like that I cringe, because I’m very aware of how stupid and juvenile it all sounds. To be arguing over things said on Facebook. But this is the level of maturity I’m dealing with and this is the twisted reality we live in, where social media starts messing with your real life. In the beginning I would message her and say things like “Do you really think this is helping?” or “please stop posting pictures of my kids with sad captions” What I got in return was “It’s my Facebook and I can say what I want” and “If you don’t like it don’t look.” I stopped replying a long time ago. And she’s kept it going. Over and over and over, like a broken record. I don’t know why she thinks that kind of thing is going to help her situation. She’d rather get likes than fix us though. Her Facebook page and her freedom to say whatever she wants on her Facebook page is more important to her than mending the relationship with her daughter I guess.
One of the most hurtful things in all of this is how my mom has orchestrated a smear campaign against me to the rest of my family. I haven’t talked to any of them about this because I didn’t think it was anyone’s business. But she’s told everyone who would listen about all of this, which I thought was so inappropriate. What kind of mother goes around bad-mouthing her daughter to the entire family? I didn’t run to family members and tell them what she’d done to get them to side with me, yet she’d done just that. I haven’t said anything to any of them. My conflict with my mother doesn’t have anything to do with my relationships with the rest of my family members.
But my mother seems to think my relationships have to go through her now, so if I don’t want to have anything to do with her then I better kiss the rest of my family goodbye. It’s been really disappointing to realize that quite a few of them seem to believe my parents version too, because I’ve been pretty much frozen out of the family. We got 1 Christmas card this year from family- 1.
It’s pretty sad now when my kids’ birthdays roll around and they no longer get happy birthday texts or cards from relatives that used to do that kind of thing. It’s pretty sad that their grandmother is responsible for that. And it’s pretty sad that those relatives have chosen “her side” without any knowledge of the situation.
All of this is just a drop in the bucket. The tip of the iceberg. There’s so much more to it than this, obviously. This is just the highlight reel of my journey through hell and back. I’ve spent the better part of these last couple of years basically falling apart at the seams. This big family fallout all coincided with having a baby and all of the stress that goes along with that, buying a house, as well as leaving our home church and losing most of the rest of our “inner circle” of friends and acquaintances along with it. All of it- the parental stuff, the hormones, the healing from birth, the adjusting to 4 kids and really struggling, the postpartum depression and crippling anxiety left me a shell of the person I used to be. I’ve been anxious, depressed, embarrassed, ashamed, guilted, manipulated, and made to feel like my parents didn’t care about me at all. What kind of parents treated their own child that way? Did they ever stop to think about me or my feelings at all? That maybe they were adding pain and stress and heartache, or that maybe their words and actions were just plain downright mean? They both said things that I just can’t unsee/unhear. Things that they’ve never attempted to apologize for.
We’ve since moved and I’ve managed to keep my physical address from my mother as of now. I’ve even gone so far as to get a PO box to give out to friends and a few family members, that way I can still receive mail but not feel like I have to worry about my parents finding out where I live. I don’t want packages at my door. I don’t want cards or letters. We don’t want presents for birthdays or Christmas. I finally feel like I can breathe a little bit now at least knowing she’s not in the immediate vicinity and she can’t just show up and knock on my door (something she’d threatened to do before when I didn’t answer her calls or texts!) None of that is good for my anxiety. I’m not sure what route to take if the unwanted mail starts coming again…
Parental estrangement is not somewhere most people want to end up. It’s not a decision I made lightly, and it’s not one without consequences. Every day is a struggle, at least so far. It’s been just over a year since I decided to go no contact with my parents. At first I thought I’d be able to put aside my own feelings and facilitate a relationship with my kids, for the sake of them having grandparents. But then I realized I couldn’t do it anymore. So I didn’t.
I realized my mom’s words were kind of ironic because here I was, devastated over the fact that my mom had been telling people that she just put up with me to see my kids. But in reality, it was *I* who was putting up with them so that they could be grandparents to my children. I’d been doing it since the beginning. I realized that from the second I knew I was going to become a mom, I turned a blind eye to wrongdoings of my parents from my childhood and from my past. I wanted us to be a happy family so badly. So, even after I’d sworn to myself I was done with them, even after being kicked out of the house at 17 years old, I still came back to them. I always came crawling back, no matter how bad things were. No matter how crappy they made me feel. No matter how fake I had to act around them. Just keep it nice, be civil, keep things surface-level, I’d tell myself when I was feeling anxious around them. Now though, I see how fake it all was. Them putting up with me, me putting up with them. All for the kids, right? Not anymore. Not at the cost of my mental health.
Proof that even my mom knew deep down that I’d always had every reason not to want to have anything to do with them after I grew up was in a letter she sent me earlier this year. She said: “the fact that you still allowed us to be a part of your life made us very happy” after referencing how rocky my childhood was. That’s right- you were darn lucky. I remember being a kid and telling myself that when I was a mom and had kids they would never know my parents. That I’d raise my kids different. That I wouldn’t be like them and I wouldn’t subject my kids to them any of this insane family dysfunction. And then somehow I found myself letting them back in, only to be hurt and disappointed over and over again. At this point I’m sure they won’t change. They don’t think they’ve done anything wrong. They “did they best they could,” my mom has told me.
I have to protect my kids from these people even if they love them. You can love bad people. Bad people can have good sides to them too. I’m sure my parents could still be decent grandparents in some capacity if they wanted to be. But my kids are freaking awesome. They’re good kids. They deserve good people in their lives, and I have to be careful of who I allow to have access to my kids and shape their minds. Anyone who says or does the things they have said and done to their own child doesn’t deserve to be around my kids. They aren’t the kind of people I want my kids growing up around. That’s a privilege- being in their lives. Let’s get that straight. Being a grandparent to them is not a right and it’s not something you can just demand.
Actions speak so much louder than words, and their actions show me that they don’t care, that they aren’t sorry, and that being right is more important than having me and my children in their lives. And so in my mind, they have no rights to my children. They lost them, just like they lost their rights to be in my life. I don’t have to subject myself to them because they’re my parents. Things were different when I was a kid. Back then I was stuck. But now I’m a 34 year old woman and I have my own family- my husband and my kids. I’ve got no room for people like them in my life anymore. I’ve suffered enough. My kids have seen me suffer too. They need a happy, healthy mom, and I have to show them that no one has the right to treat them that way. That they never have to stay in a relationship with anyone out of obligation and subject themselves to any type of abuse, even if at the hand of someone they love. And I think that makes me a pretty freaking good mom no matter what she says.
It hasn’t been easy, but I’m finally at a place where I feel like I’m able to heal. To not get overly upset and have physical symptoms or soul crushing anxiety every second of the day. Some days are better than others. I still have sad days where I feel like I’m right back where I started and I get mad or sad all over again. I felt a lot of guilt around the holidays because this was the first year with NO contact at all- not even a holiday card or anything. I wondered if I was being cruel. I had to actually pull up old messages and letters and re-read them, relive everything a little just to remind myself exactly what it was I was walking completely away from. Any short-lived guilt I had melted away when she tried to contact me again right before Christmas. Of course not to say sorry, but just to make me feel bad and trying to bait me into a phone call. I reminded myself that talking would get us nowhere and that she still hadn’t changed. So I closed the message and pretended not to see it and did my best not to think about them while I spent Christmas with my husband and kids. My kids need a happy and healthy mom, and I’m bound and determined to give them just that!
So that’s my story, or at least a small portion of it. As much as it pains me, I know there are countless other women out there with stories similar to mine, which is why I’m choosing to put mine out there. Whether you’re just deciding to set some boundaries with toxic parents or maybe you’re at the point where you’ve had enough heartache and want to completely remove yourself from the situation and go “no contact.” Wherever you’re at on your journey you’ll need support. Don’t go it alone. If you’re serious about going no contact I strongly encourage seeking some type of professional help, whether it be a therapist, counselor, psychiatrist, or whatever you feel comfortable with. Take care of your mental health! I’m so proud of you for recognizing the fact that you are in a toxic relationship and are prepared to end the cycle of abuse. And remember that forgiving doesn’t mean you have to let an abuser back into your life!
Where am I now?
Good question. The last 2 years have been the hardest years of my life. They were awful and wonderful at the same time. I had a baby- which was great and amazing and brought a ton of new challenges. I’ve struggled with parenting a lot these last two years and all of this family drama has not been helpful. My kids suffered a lot because of this by watching me spiral. It’s affected them hugely, and for them my heart breaks and I become really pissed off all over again.
I’m trying to be everyone and everything for kids now. Being a mother while trying to repair yourself mentally and emotionally is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. It’s taken a lot of time and work (and medication and therapy) to start to move past it and move on. I’ve been seeing a therapist once a week for about 6 months now and she’s been such an amazing resource. To have a neutral person hear you and say “you don’t have to put up with this” has been extremely encouraging. Some days are better than others and I just take one day at a time. I wasted so much time being upset and angry so I’m letting go of all of that and am just trying to move forward and better myself. Being stuck in that place of anger and resentment was not healthy. I wallowed long enough. It could have been worse, right? I survived and am better off now!
Resources about toxic parents and parental estrangement
I have so much more to say on this topic and I have a series of posts planned, but for now I wanted to leave you with just a a few resources I found extremely helpful. If you’re like me you probably scoured the internet already looking for advice, tips, answers, support groups, etc. I’m a need all the information type of person, even stuff like this. I needed to know I wasn’t alone or crazy and that someone else out there had experienced something similar.
This website has been amazing. There are so many insightful articles on parental estrangement and toxic relationships. This was the first article I read and it was a life-changer! It was like all of a sudden the blindfold was taken off and I could see the toxic family dysfunction for what it was- toxic! The more I read the better I felt about myself and the decisions I had made to walk away. This post about dysfunctional beliefs was incredible too. Sometimes you don’t realize how dysfunctional your family dynamic is until someone else tells you it’s not normal!
Also, the book You’re Not Crazy, It’s Your Mother was also life-changing. I highlighted almost every page and was nodding my head in agreement thinking “Oh my gosh, me too!” for the entire first half of the book. I’ll admit though that I did not make it through the second half of the book. That was where the self-help method lost me- something about repeatedly tapping your fingers or something? Maybe some day when my mind slows down and I can focus more I’ll make it back to that part, but for now, the first half of that book was awesome! I highly recommend it for anyone with “mom issues” (or whatever you want to call it).
This book about toxic parents was another really helpful read. I read most of it front to back, skipping around to read topics of interest first. Again, lots of nodding and thinking “yes!” through most of this book. It really helped me to realize that what I’ve experienced is not OK. Again, it helped reaffirm my decision to walk away from hurtful relationships.
Along with those book and website suggestions I’ll leave you with these quotes I’ve seen and resonated with. I hope if one of them speaks to you and your situation that it brings you a sense of peace.