As I
mentioned in my previous post, we got into a fight with my parents at Christmas
and we haven’t reached any kind of resolution. To make a long story short, it
was a fight over money. They did something they thought was nice, but because
they didn’t consult us, we asked for additional information. They found our
request insulting. Basically they thought we were looking a gift horse in the
mouth. Words were exchanged that gave us insight into how they see us. It
wasn’t pretty.
January
was tense. I avoided them at all costs. By February, when they still hadn’t
provided us with the additional information we’d requested, I contacted their
estate planner – something they’d said I could do. This provoked a very nasty
email from my father, which gave us even further insight into how they think
about us. It was… ugly. Thankfully they’ve been out of the country ever since.
(BTW, our financial advisor assured us that having the additional information was a wise idea.)
So we’re
kind of… done. Exhausted. Unwilling and unable to continue. 2016 really showed
us their stripes in a way that was somehow fundamentally different. All the bad
visits we had and all the words that were exchanged added up. I’m sure it’s also
because my husband and I found the 2016 sobering: we dealt with deaths,
illnesses, surgeries and greatly increased responsibilities at work. Perhaps
it’s because we finally have
financial security and this makes my parents feel unnecessary, and maybe even uncomfortable
about having judged us.
They’re
coming home in a few days and I have to deal with this. I can continue to avoid
them and say that we’re just busy. And we could continue to have contact with
them very sporadically and just keep trying to write off their behavior with
various excuses. But inevitably they’re going to impose some larger request on
our time: to stay at our house, to have us come visit, or to travel with them. And
we’ll need to decline. And all the neurocircuitry in my head is screaming: “you
have a filial obligation!” and “you owe them because they paid for grad
school/fertility treatments/ski trips!” The loudest neurons are screaming:
“they conditioned you to never disappoint them!”
I met
with my therapist today and we discussed this last thought pattern. I’m terrified of disappointing them because they terrorized me growing up. However…
when we began to talk about this fear, it seemed kind of ironic. Despite my
never-ending quest to please them, they’ve always given me the impression that
my husband and I are a continual source of disappointment. With the exception
of recognition for achievements from external sources of authority (like
degrees or promotions) they consistently offer critiques about our
lives. When someone treats us like children at our age/tax bracket/education level – what are we left to think?
They just think we aren’t very good people.
And you
know what? If I were to really be honest, I’ve bought it hook, line &
sinker. My husband always asks why I think I’m not a nice person when – on
paper – I am a VERY nice person. (I work with sick kids, I
volunteer, and I treat people in my life kindly.) I’ve always pointed to my more
borderline-y moments and argued that I’d made some fundamental mistakes
in the past which have hurt people. He just shakes his head.
But…
ever since this damn fight at Christmas, I keep going back over our actions and
thinking: we’re not doing anything wrong, so why are they implying we are? Why
do they ALWAYS make us feel like we’re doing something wrong? And why do I keep
people in my life who fundamentally, don’t respect us? Yes, they’re my
parents and they know they need to take care of me but this is not how it’s
done. This is not care. This is control.
I have a
decision to make. I have to grab the controls. And I have to decide how.
