Saturday, March 11, 2017

I have a decision to make.

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.